Stars in the Darkness
by Arwyn Whitesun
Summary: Sequel to fic First Knight
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: Stars in the Darkness - Sequel to "First Knight"  
  
BY: Arwyn Whitesun  
  
SUMMARY: Two years have passed since the events of "First Knight" and, as old friends meet and new friends and enemies are made, events within the Republic threaten the lives and futures of all.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The Great Flanneled One created Obi-Wan, Anakin and Yoda, et al. The rest belong to me. Definitely not making any money on this fic, but feedback can and will be accepted in lieu of payment. :)  
  
NOTE: As mentioned in the title, this fic is a sequel to a fic I wrote called "First Knight" which can be found at http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=880806 or click on my name to see my listings of fics.  
  
For those who do not wish to read the entire story, but would like to know what happened, the following synopsis is provided.  
  
SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS FROM "FIRST KNIGHT": When Obi-Wan Kenobi and his teen- aged apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, are sent to Ahjane to negotiate a peace accord between warring provinces, as a condition of the accord, a marriage is arranged between Onara, the only child of Dynast K'lia, leader of one province, and Dynast Edress, the leader of the other.  
  
A much older man, Edress is only interested in marrying Onara for her dowry. Meanwhile, as part of an ancient and time-honored ritual, Obi-Wan is asked to bless the marriage of Onara and Edress by spending the night with her. Reluctantly, the Jedi Knight agrees to do so, but as a result, falls in love with Onara.  
  
Unbeknownst to Onara or Obi-Wan, however, Onara's grandmother, the formidable and ambitious Lady Tsara, who longs to have a heir for her province who would possess the power of a Jedi, sees that Onara becomes pregnant from the ritual by ensuring she does not receive the prescribed conception inhibitor. As a result, Onara falls deathly ill from the high midi-chlorian count of the child she carries.  
  
Obi-Wan, learning of Onara's illness, goes on a desperate, and nearly hopeless quest to find an insane, ex-Jedi Healer named Sinja-Bau. Meanwhile, Lady Tsara, who has been banished for her schemes, is visited by Count Dooku at the behest of Lord Sidious. Although he does not participate actively in her plans to get her hands on her grandson, named Ben Gavon Kenobi, he does give her some assistance. Tsara has Onara's husband, Edress, murdered and puts in his place a man who is more than willing to do her bidding.  
  
As Obi-Wan travels far beyond the borders of the Republic to the distant ice planet of Toola to find Sinja-Bau, Lady Tsara hires a cadre of merciless, trained assassins called the Red Tide to kill her son, Dynast K'lia and kidnap her grandson, Onara and Obi-Wan's child, Ben. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, finds Sinja-Bau and, although still gripped by her madness, agrees to come with him and try to cure Onara, who is rapidly slipping away.  
  
The Red Tide attacks Dynast K'lia's manor, killing him and a Jedi Healer by the name of Master Eo, Sinja-Bau's former apprentice, who was helping Anakin guard Onara and Ben. Anakin succeeds in defeating most of the Red Tide, but Tsara is able to escape with the baby. Anakin pursues her and, when Tsara tries to kill him, he kills her instead, rescuing Ben, who is unharmed in the process.  
  
Obi-Wan arrives with Sinja-Bau and she, upon looking upon the dead body of her former apprentice is cured of her madness by the Force and is also given back her power to access the Force, it having been stripped from her by the Jedi Council before she was expelled from the Order. She then successfully cures Onara of her illness. But, the reunion between Onara and Obi-Wan is brief and bittersweet.  
  
He and Anakin are summoned to Coruscant, where Obi-Wan is reprimanded for his behavior by the Jedi Council. He is sent on retreat, to a Jedi Chapterhouse on the distant water world of Bestine, where he is instructed to find his way back to the Jedi path. Anakin is given, temporarily, to another master.  
  
Onara, meanwhile, at the behest of both her people and Obi-Wan, marries Dalan, her deceased husband's nephew, now Dynast of his province. Obi-Wan asks Onara not to tell Ben about him, for he does not want him confused about who his real father is but, at the end of the story, Onara, now married to Dalan, begins to tell her infant son stories about his father. His real father. Obi-Wan Kenobi.  
  
The events of "Stars in the Darkness" take place two years later.  
  
--------------  
  
"Mama, look!"  
  
Onara looked up from her personal datapad where she had been going over the list of things she still needed to pack. She glanced over at her two-year old son and her heart stopped.  
  
"Ben, darling, no!" she cried.  
  
She leapt from the chair and ran over to where Ben was levitating one of the packing boxes over his head. Then she stopped, afraid to say anything more and break his concentration. Ben's large, blue-gray eyes were locked on the box, but he would glance over at her to make sure she was watching, his little face split in a wide, proud grin.  
  
"Ben Gavon Kenobi," a warm, but firm voice said from the doorway. "Put that box down right this minute before you give your mother a heart attack."  
  
Ben looked over at Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi Master was frowning fiercely at him, her brows drawn down over her blue-green eyes. Ben's face fell.  
  
"Yes, Bau-Bau," he said softly.  
  
Onara smiled, despite the hard thumping of her heart. When Ben had first learned to talk, he had been unable to say Sinja-Bau's full name, so he had called her Bau-Bau, a name he still insisted on calling her by. He slowly lowered the box to the floor. Sinja-Bau walked over and, kneeling down, took him by the shoulders.  
  
"Your mother has enough to worry about without you getting that little noggin of yours..." and she reached over and tapped him gently on his glossy, black hair "....cracked open. Now, be a good boy, kiss your mother, and wait for me in the garden. I have something for you."  
  
The toddler's face, which has been crestfallen as his beloved nanny and teacher scolded him, lit up instantly. Turning from Sinja-Bau, he raced over to his mother and kissed her quickly on her cheek. Onara tried to grab his little body so she could give him a hug, but he squirmed deftly from her arms and ran out of her room. Sinja-Bau, who had risen from the floor, walked over to Onara.  
  
"Do you think his father was so fearless when he was Ben's age?" Onara asked her.  
  
"Obi-Wan?" The silver-haired woman laughed. "More so, or so I heard."  
  
Onara raised a dark, slender brow. "You're joking? I could never imagine Obi-Wan being so...so..."  
  
"Impetuous?" Sinja-Bau finished for her. "Precocious? Reckless?"  
  
Onara nodded, but her eyes were full of laughter.  
  
"But," Sinja-Bau said, her mouth crinkling with a smile, "isn't this the same Obi-Wan Kenobi who leapt out of a window with you on the night of the blessing ceremony to go see the mating dance of some butterflies?"  
  
Onara blushed as she recalled that night. The night she first met Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, master to Anakin Skywalker, and father of her only child, Ben Kenobi.  
  
"Yes, he did," she agreed. "And it wasn't butterflies, whatever they are. It was the mating dance of the Katarra.  
  
Sinja-Bau shrugged and smiled. "Well, now you see where Ben gets it."  
  
Onara sighed. "He's been doing that a lot lately, hasn't he? Levitating things he knows he shouldn't."  
  
"Yes, he has. But you mustn't blame him. He knows you'll be leaving soon. He only wants your attention."  
  
"I know," Onara said sadly as she went back to her desk. She looked over her datapad, then held her hand to her forehead. "If I had known being a Senator was going to be so much work, I would have never have accepted the position.  
  
"That's not true and you know it," Sinja-Bau scolded as she walked over and put her arm around Onara's shoulder. "You and Dalan have worked too hard to get Ahjane a full seat in the Senate. Now, all your hard work has paid off."  
  
Onara sat at her desk and thrummed her fingers on it. "Do you think it wise of me to move to Coruscant?"  
  
Sinja-Bau moved a chair over and sat next to her. She reached over and took the younger woman's hand.  
  
"You're a Senator now, Onara. It's not absolutely necessary for you to live on Coruscant, but until you know your way around the Senate, at least for now, it's probably best."  
  
"You're right." Onara gripped Sinja-Bau's hand. "Do you think...he'll be there?"  
  
"It's possible. Although most Jedi Knights and their apprentices are usually away from the Temple on missions throughout the Republic."  
  
Onara nodded. She had only received a few letters from Obi-Wan over the past two years. He had successfully completed his retreat on Bestine a year and a half ago and been reinstated back into the Order. Anakin had also been returned to him, and his mastership of the boy was continuing. As for Onara, she had been so busy lobbying for Ahjane's admission to the Republic as a full member and raising their son Ben, she had been amazed at how quickly the time had gone by.  
  
Ben, who was now just over two standards, had proven to be a handful over those years, and Onara had thanked the gods everyday for Sinja-Bau's presence. But, it wasn't just his gifts with the Force that had been a challenge for Onara. Ben had learned to walk and talk much earlier than normal children, and he was not only bright, but very curious about everything around him.  
  
There was many a time that Onara, her husband, Dalan, her elderly twin aunts, Sinja-Bau, and the household staff had gone searching for the toddler, who was prone to wander off after whatever happened to catch his eye. Onara had finally had to have security droids placed on the grounds. Not as protection for the manor, but to keep an eye on Ben. Sinja-Bau, who had been watching the expressions flitting across Onara's face, squeezed her hand.  
  
"Do not worry, Onara. Ben will be fine. He'll miss you, of course, but once you're all settled in, I'll bring him to you. Trust me. It will be better for you both if you go on alone at first."  
  
Onara nodded. Yes, she would be going on alone to Coruscant. Ben would stay here, at least for the time being, with the people he knew and loved. As would her husband, Dalan. As a result of their marriage, both their provinces had been merged into one and it was now one of the largest provinces on Ahjane. Overseeing it took up much of Dalan's time. Onara stood and Sinja-Bau with her.  
  
"Then I'd best get moving," she said. "I have a lot more to do before my ship leaves for Coruscant."  
  
"Don't work too, hard, Onara," Sinja-Bau said. "We're all here if you need us."  
  
"I won't."  
  
Sinja-Bau patted her cheek. Turning, her wide blue skirt swirling around her, she went to where Ben was waiting for her in the garden. Once she was alone, Onara sat down again, her hands clasped in her lap. She was very excited about the new life she was about to begin as a Senator on Coruscant, but she was also more excited about finally seeing the world that the man she still loved with all her heart called home.  
  
-------------  
  
Anakin peered down the hill behind the camp. The sky was pearling towards dawn, and he heard the soft twitters and chirrups of the awakening birds in the linden and birch trees surrounding him. Soon everything in the world would be awake; eager, or not so eager, to start a new day. And that included the dissidents below in the camp.  
  
If they had even been asleep, Anakin thought. He had not. He'd been positioned on this hill all night, just as Master Obi-Wan had ordered him to. A tiny smile crinkled Anakin's somewhat chapped lips for it had been quite chilly during the night. Two years ago he would not have been so patient, so willing to wait, but a lot of things had happened in the past two years between him and his master to change that.  
  
Noting movement in the camp, Anakin focused his attention back on it. Two figures walked out of the main building, heading towards what Anakin knew was a storage shed. His heart quickened. Master Obi-Wan had instructed him to keep an eye on the dissidents and to make sure they didn't leave the camp. If they were to leave, Anakin's job was to stop them. From where he was on the hill, he knew it would take him only minutes to make his way down before they could get away, so he wasn't worried.  
  
But he was worried about the child the dissidents had kidnapped. The only child of Senator Elester Rhygdon, the little girl had been taken from her home where she had been under the care of a nanny and a battalion of household staff and guards, but that had not stopped the dissidents, whose heated political grievances with the Senator had erupted into their daring act of kidnapping her two-year old daughter.  
  
Personally, Anakin sympathized with the dissidents, for it was no secret that Senator Rhygdon was corrupt, having appeared several times before the Supreme Judge on Coruscant to answer charges of having accepted bribes for key Senate votes. But, each time, the wily Senator had beat the charges and emerged unscathed.  
  
Anakin grimaced. Fully aware of his master's feelings toward politicians, and especially corrupt ones, Anakin was at first surprised that Obi-Wan would have chosen to offer his assistance to Senator Rhygdon. But Anakin knew it wasn't for the Senator's sake, so much, that Obi-Wan was doing this. It was because a child was involved.  
  
Inching forward, Anakin searched for any sign of his master in the thick woods that surrounded the camp. It hadn't taken him and Obi-Wan long to find the hideout of the kidnappers. Even the local law enforcement, in the two weeks the child had been missing, had not been able to find them. But, more than willing to accept the help of the Jedi, who had been on Nida to assist with the distribution of medical supplies to a disease-stricken region on one of its smaller continents, the local authorities had given Obi-Wan and Anakin free rein.  
  
Actually, Obi-Wan had asked Inspector Monel and his men to remain some kilometers back from the camp and allow him and Anakin to take care of things. A decision that Anakin had secretly applauded. He much preferred not having what he considered civilians, even if they were law enforcement personnel, around when he and his master did their work.  
  
Soon Anakin saw more movement within the camp. As far as he and Obi-Wan knew the child was safe and alive. Senator Rhygdon, in her typically tempestuous style, had steadfastly refused to give up her seat in the Senate, which had been chief among the dissident's demands. Public opinion on Nida was squarely on her side, but not because the populace didn't think the dissidents were right in their complaints against her, but because sympathy had shifted from the dissidents to the Senator when they had gone too far and kidnapped an innocent child.  
  
On their earlier reconnaissance, Anakin and Obi-Wan had counted six dissidents, four males and two females, in the camp. All of them were young and appeared to be from different strata of Nidaian society. Obi-Wan's plan, as he had revealed it to Anakin, was to rescue the child without any harm coming to the dissidents; another reason his master had not wanted the local authorities involved. They were too prone to shoot with their blasters and ask questions later.  
  
A soft beeping sound altered Anakin that his comlink was active. He didn't answer it. It was Obi-Wan's prearranged signal. It meant his master was in position. Moving swiftly, but silently down the hill, Anakin made his way towards the camp. Now that he was nearer to it, he saw clearly that four of the dissidents were moving about the grounds, apparently loading equipment and supplies in order to move to a new location. That had been their strategy the last two weeks. Moving constantly from one hideout to another. The other two were probably still inside the main building, guarding the child.  
  
Although the sun was nearly up, its white light chasing away the night's shadows, Anakin was still able to slip unnoticed into the camp. There was no fencing about it, the dissidents apparently having believed their remote location was protection enough. Anakin ducked behind a row of barrels near the storage shed. The four dissidents he had noted before were nowhere near it. He slipped inside.  
  
He saw a wheeled van, large enough to carry all the dissidents. He examined it. Pretty primitive by his standards, therefore, it was no trouble at all for him to disable it. He didn't want anyone trying to get away in case his and Master's Obi-Wan plan didn't work. Once he was done with that, he stole back outside and made his way toward the main building.  
  
The four dissidents, two males and two females, were busily gathering up whatever they had decided to take with them. Their voices rang through the camp, some sleepy and grumpy, others crisp and efficient. Anakin saw that only two of them were armed, one of the males and one of the females. As he inched closer to them, he waited for the other signal he and Obi-Wan had agreed upon. Finally, he heard it. The snap-hiss of his master's lightsaber coming from somewhere near the main building.  
  
Anakin streaked from his hiding place towards the dissidents, his lightsaber flashing on. Fortunately, the two armed dissidents were standing next to each other, arguing as to whether they should take a generator with them. The unarmed dissidents, who were picking up a large, metal box cried out when they saw Anakin.  
  
The armed couple turned towards Anakin, but before they could draw their blasters, he used the Force to knock them down. The man fell, his blaster flying from his hand. Anakin reached for it with the Force and flung it into the trees. The woman, however, held onto hers. As she scrambled to sit up, Anakin stood above her, the tip of his lightsaber at her throat.  
  
"Don't," he said softly. "I don't want to hurt you. Put down your weapon."  
  
The young woman, who was slender with soft brown eyes, sneered up at Anakin as she tossed away her blaster.  
  
"Jedi. So, now the Jedi do the bidding of that dirty _shetai_."  
  
Anakin grinned. "I'm afraid I know nothing about the Senator's parentage. We're here only for the child."  
  
"We?" the girl cried.  
  
"Yes, we," Obi-Wan said as he walked out of the main building.  
  
He was holding a little girl with big green eyes and short, black hair, her thin arms clutched tightly around his neck, her tiny fingers woven through his red-gold hair. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of still another Jedi.  
  
Obi-Wan stopped and looked down at her. "It's over," he told her.  
  
As the young woman stood, her eyes lit up with fire.  
  
"Over? It will never be over, Jedi. Not until justice is done and Senator Rhygdon pays for her crimes against the people of Nida."  
  
"That may be," Obi-Wan said quietly. "But, if you are seeking justice, involving the innocent in your cause will not bring it to you."  
  
The woman only glared at him. Anakin, who had rounded up the other three, turned to Obi-Wan.  
  
"What about the ones inside the building, Master?"  
  
"They are...waiting for the authorities," Obi-Wan said with a small smile.  
  
"Didn't leave anything for me yet again, did you Master?" Anakin asked, his blue eyes dancing.  
  
Obi-Wan looked around the camp. "You seem to have done well enough out here."  
  
Anakin grinned, then turned as he heard the sound of transport vehicles entering the camp. Obi-Wan must have contacted the local authorities and let them know the situation was under control. A dozen law enforcement officers disembarked from the vehicles and quickly took the kidnappers into custody. A square-faced, lantern-jawed man with thick blonde hair walked towards Obi-Wan and Anakin. It was Inspector Monel. He had coordinated the search efforts and had been the Jedi's liaison between the local authorities and the Senator's office.  
  
"Good job, Master Kenobi," Monel said. "You did as you promised. The child is safe and no one was hurt."  
  
Obi-Wan looked over to where the dissidents were being herded into the vehicles.  
  
"They weren't truly dangerous, Inspector Monel. Most of them are no older than my Padawan. Students, by and large. The child is in good health and was not harmed."  
  
"Well, be that as it may, you still did a good job."  
  
Monel reached over to take the little girl, whose name was Joyna, from Obi- Wan.  
  
"No, no!" she cried, turning her face from the inspector and holding onto Obi-Wan as if her life depended on it.  
  
Monel drew back. Obi-Wan smiled at the inspector. "If it's all right, perhaps it would be best if she stayed with me until we return her to Senator Rhygdon."  
  
Monel shrugged. "Fine with me."  
  
He turned and helped his men finish loading the last of the dissidents into the transport vehicles. Anakin looked over at Joyna and Obi-Wan. The little girl, who had buried her neck in Obi-Wan's shoulder when Monel tried to take her, was now looking up at him, her bright green eyes locked on his.  
  
What struck Anakin, however, and hurt him to see it was the look on Obi- Wan's face. He was smiling at Joyna, but Anakin clearly saw the pain in his master's blue-gray eyes. And he knew Obi-Wan was thinking of his own child, his little son, Ben. The son who was now the same age as Joyna, and whom he had not seen in two years. Noting Anakin's gaze on him, Obi-Wan turned towards him.  
  
"Ready, Padawan?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
With Joyna securely in Obi-Wan's arms, they went to where Anakin had hidden the vehicle they had used to come to the camp.  
  
To be continued... 


	2. Part Two

Thanks everyone for responding! I'll try to get posts up as soon as I can. More to come! :)  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Two  
  
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Onara smoothed back strands of hair that had escaped from her bun and were tickling the sides of her face. It was the evening of the day Ben had terrified her by levitating that huge box over his head. As she walked down the gleaming hallway of the manor towards his room, she found herself wondering what would have happened if his concentration had broken. She shuddered thinking of it. He had been doing a lot of reckless things of late with his Force abilities and, as Sinja-Bau had pointed it out, it was all in reaction to Onara's pending departure tomorrow for Coruscant.  
  
She turned a corner and saw one of the servants closing the door to Ben's room. It was Keria, the young girl who had seen to Anakin's leg after his dramatic rescue of Ben from Onara's grandmother, the Lady Tsara. Two years had passed since that day, but Onara knew the young blonde girl still dreamed of the handsome, young Padawan. As Onara herself still dreamed of his equally handsome Master.  
  
"Milady," Keria said, curtseying as Onara approached.  
  
"Has he had his bath?" Onara asked smiling.  
  
"Yes, milady. Though I think you will find it hard to get him to lie down and go to sleep. He's quite excited about your leaving tomorrow," Keira said, her dark brown eyes twinkling.  
  
Onara sighed. "Yes, I know."  
  
Keria moved closer, but stopped just short of taking Onara's arm. Although Onara would have welcomed reassurance from anyone at this moment, the servants had become even more deferential to her since she had been elected Senator of their homeworld.  
  
"Do not worry, milady. He will be fine. We will all do our best to ensure he is never lonely."  
  
Onara, who never treated her servants the way most of the major houses of the Ahjane did, reached over and took Keria by the shoulders.  
  
"I know you will, Keria. Actually, I think out of everyone you are Ben's favorite."  
  
Keria blushed prettily. "No, my milady. Everyone knows it is you and Mistress Sinja-Bau he loves the most."  
  
Onara smiled. She released Keria's shoulder and was about to open the door to Ben's room, when she heard the young woman's voice. She turned and looked at her.  
  
"Milady, do you think, perhaps, when you go to Coruscant, you will see Master Anakin?"  
  
"I don't know, Keria." Onara smiled. "Do you have a message for him?"  
  
Keria blushed again. "No, my milady. None at all. I just thought...if you were to see him..."  
  
"I will tell him you send him your best wishes."  
  
Keria, who had been staring at the floor, swinging the toe of her slipper back and forth under her long skirt, looked up at Onara and smiled widely.  
  
"Oh, thank you, milady. Thank you!"  
  
She curtsied, turned and almost skipped down the hall, her long blonde hair swinging across her shoulders. Onara watched her for a moment, shaking her head but smiling fondly. Keria was now the same age Onara had been when she first met Obi-Wan. At eighteen, she was only two years younger than Onara, but she felt years older than the young servant girl.  
  
She turned back to the door to Ben's room. Opening it, she stepped inside. Ben's room used to be one of the larger guest rooms in the manor. His nursery, where the Jedi Healer Master Eo had been killed by members of the Red Tide as he had tried to protect Ben, had been closed off. Onara could not abide the idea of her Force-sensitive baby sleeping in a room where so much death had occurred, for Master Eo, before he had died, had killed a number of the Red Tide members. Since then, the room had become something of a shrine. In front of its door, fresh flowers were placed every day by the servants in remembrance of the gentle, but valiant Jedi Healer.  
  
Now, even two years after his death, Onara's eyes still stung with tears when she remembered the Quarren Jedi. Humanoids dominated the planet of Ahjane and alien visitors rarely came, so when Obi-Wan brought Eo to Ahjane to see if he could cure her of her midi-chlorian poisoning, brought about by her pregnancy, many of her people had been taken aback at the Jedi Healer's strange appearance; the four tentacles that had protruded from his jaw, his bulbous, turquoise eyes, his long suction-tipped fingers. But, in the short time Onara had known Master Eo, he had become as dear to her as her own father, who had also died that terrible night.  
  
Now, as Onara walked into Ben's room, she noted the electronic security screens on the windows. Although her grandmother, the Lady Tsara, the mastermind behind the plot that had brought such pain and grief to them all, also died that night, killed in self-defense by Anakin, Onara would never feel completely safe, and she would never forget the terrible sound of Ben's scream when her grandmother had stolen him and how helpless Onara had been to stop her. After recovering from her illness, she had vowed never to be that vulnerable again. Therefore, when she looked over at Ben's bed and saw it was empty, a dizzying wave of vertigo washed over her.  
  
Then she heard a tiny sneeze and relaxed. Noting the sneeze had come from under the bed, Onara made her way across the plush blue carpet to Ben's closet. Since his room was both bedroom, playroom and study room it was quite large. She opened the closet and looked inside.  
  
"Now, where could my little Jedi Knight be?" she said in a loud voice. "Hmm, he's not in here."  
  
Onara closed the closet door. Walking across the room, she made sure Ben could hear her as she searched. She stopped in front of his computer terminal, where Sinja-Bau gave him his daily lessons. Bending over the computer, she pressed some of the keys.  
  
"Hmmm, I wonder if he's hiding in this computer?" she asked loudly.  
  
She heard a barely suppressed giggle from under the bed.  
  
"No, I think not," Onara said as she moved away from the computer. "Even a Jedi Knight could not make himself so small as to hide in a computer."  
  
Usually, Ben would wait until she had looked in at least three places before he revealed himself. She walked over to his play area which was littered with all the toys she and Dalan, along with Sinja-Bau and his twin elderly great-aunts, who spoiled him to death, had bought him over the years.  
  
Onara had succeeded in getting rid of some when Ben had grown tired of them. Those she donated to the orphanage in the capital. Stepping carefully over the stuffed bantha, Force building blocks, Serisian puzzles and assorted playthings, she finally stopped and put her hands on her hips.  
  
"Well, I've looked and I've looked. And I can't find my little Knight anywhere." She sighed heavily. "I suppose I'll just have to find some other little boy to give a goodnight kiss and a bedtime story to."  
  
Her back was to the bed when she said this. She soon heard soft movement behind her. Once she was certain Ben was standing behind her, she slowly turned around and, throwing her hands up in the air, gasped in fright.  
  
"Here I am, Mama!" Ben shouted, jumping up and down.  
  
"Oh, you frightened me," Onara cried, her eyes wide, her hands clasped to her chest.  
  
Ben laughed, his blue-gray eyes shining. Then he lifted up his arms, beckoning her to pick him up, which Onara did quickly and gladly. Except for the incident with the levitating box, she had not seen Ben all day as she had finished her last minute packing and her nearly day-long meeting with Shiro, her major-domo, regarding last-minute household matters.  
  
As she walked over to Ben's bed, she held him tight, letting herself revel in the softness of his round cheek against her face, the warmth of his little body in her arms, the smell of the bath soap on his skin, and the heady realization that he was the embodiment of the single night of passion and love she had shared with Obi-Wan, and the flesh and blood essence of the deep love she still carried for him.  
  
Reaching his bed, Onara carefully laid Ben on it. Keria had, she noted, at least gotten him to put on his sleep clothes. Onara helped him slip under the covers, then sat next to him. But, before she could say a word, she heard a strange noise from under his bed. At the sound Ben, who had been smiling up at her, suddenly froze and his eyes widened.  
  
"Ben, what is that under your bed? Is that one of your toys?"  
  
"No, Mama."  
  
The sound became louder and, as it did, Ben's eyes grew larger.  
  
"Well, what is it?"  
  
"I don't know, Mama."  
  
"Ben Kenobi," Onara said, as she frowned down at her son. "What did Mama tell you about telling lies?"  
  
"Not to."  
  
"Exactly. So, I will ask you again. What is that noise?"  
  
Ben gazed up at her for a moment and Onara could see the nervousness in his eyes. Climbing out from under his covers, he got off the bed and scooted under it. Onara sat waiting. Long moments passed.  
  
"Ben?"  
  
"Yes, Mama?" he replied, his muffled voice coming up to her from under the bed.  
  
"I'm waiting for you and whatever it is you have hidden under your bed to come up here. Right now."  
  
"Yes, Mama," she heard him say with a sigh.  
  
He pushed himself from beneath the bed and stood. His thick black hair was tousled, his blue-gray eyes staring down at the floor, and both his hands behind his back. Onara crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"What is that you're holding?"  
  
Ben reached around with one small hand and showed it to Onara. It was empty. Onara shook her head and pointed to his other hand which was still behind his back. Ben put his empty hand behind him, kept it hidden, then showed her his other hand, which was also empty.  
  
"Ben," Onara said in a warning tone.  
  
"Oh, Mama, please let me keep it. Please," Ben pleaded.  
  
"Keep what, darling?"  
  
Ben looked at her for a moment, then brought both his hands from around his back and showed her what was in them. At first Onara saw what looked like a large, golden furry ball. Then she noted the ball had tiny eartufts, a white chest and bright blue eyes ringed with red. It was softly cooing and Onara noted a faint, but pleasant scent from it. Before she could ask what it was, however, it suddenly stood up on eight tiny, thin legs. Onara drew back. Ben laughed as she did so, the creature balancing perfectly on his hands.  
  
"Don't be afraid, Mama. It won't hurt you."  
  
"Ben, what is that and where did you get it?" It certainly didn't look like any creature Onara had ever seen on Ahjane.  
  
"Bau-Bau gave it to me. It's a....a..." Ben screwed up his face until he remembered. "It's a voorpak."  
  
"A voorpak?"  
  
Ben nodded. "It came from Naboo. Isn't he pretty, Mama?"  
  
Onara eyed the creature. She had noted when it had opened its mouth to yawn, it had two rows of tiny, but very sharp teeth.  
  
"It's a he?" she asked.  
  
Ben nodded. He climbed back onto the bed and snuggled next to Onara, the voorpak having now collapsed his legs back under himself. The creature closed his eyes, and humming softly, went back to sleep. Ben carefully placed the creature in his lap, gently stroking it.  
  
"Feel," he said.  
  
Onara reached over and gingerly touched the creature. His fur was quite soft and Onara soon found herself, along with Ben, gently stroking it. The voorpak cooed louder.  
  
"He likes you, Mama," Ben cried happily.  
  
Ben had never had any pets, although he had been prone to bringing into the manor whatever bugs, grubs or worms he found outside. Thinking about it now, Onara realized she had never even considered giving Ben a pet. She supposed it was because he was only two, but he was much brighter than any two-year old she had ever known.  
  
"What's its name?" Onara asked as Ben continued to gently stroke the voorpak.  
  
"It doesn't have a name, Mama. I want you to give it a name."  
  
"Me?"  
  
Ben nodded, his bright blue-gray eyes fixed on her.  
  
"But, it's your pet, darling. You should give it a name. That's one of the fun things about having one. You get to give it a special name all its own."  
  
Ben thought for a moment, his forehead furrowed. Then his face brightened.  
  
"I know, I know. His name is Obi-Wan."  
  
"Obi-Wan?"  
  
Ben nodded happily, patting the voorpak on its tiny head.  
  
"Like the Jedi Knight in your stories, Mama."  
  
Onara's heart turned over. Despite her promise to herself she would tell Ben about his father, although she still told him stories about Obi-Wan, for he always asked for them, she had stopped telling him the Jedi was his father because, as Obi-Wan had predicated in the letter he sent her, it had only confused him. She had even stopped using Obi-Wan's whole name in the story so as not to bewilder Ben even more.  
  
The only father Ben had ever known was Dalan. He was Papa. Trying to tell Ben, at least while he was still so young, that the man in her stories, the Jedi Knight with his wondrous blade of light, was his real father had only perplexed him and Onara had stopped telling him so.  
  
To Ben, Obi-Wan was not Papa. He was the hero of his favorite bed-time stories, the brave Jedi Knight who slew valkons and dragons, rescued princesses from evil dark lords, defended the weak and upheld justice. When Ben was a little older, and could understand such things better, Onara would tell him the truth about his father and hoped that Obi-Wan, if he ever found out, would forgive her.  
  
"Can I name him Obi-Wan? Please, Mama?"  
  
Onara leaned down and kissed the top of his dark head. "Of course you can, darling. Now, where do you plan for Obi-Wan to sleep?"  
  
"With me," Ben replied smiling.  
  
"But, don't you think Obi-Wan would like to have his own bed? That way, if he wants to he can stretch out all his legs. You're such a big boy, he might not have room to do that if he sleeps with you."  
  
Ben mulled over that for a moment. "Okay. But where is his bed?"  
  
Onara looked around. She spied a box on the floor where Ben's toys were. She rose from the bed, got the box and brought it back to Ben. The toddler looked inside it.  
  
"He's going to need a blanket, Mama."  
  
"Oh, yes, of course."  
  
Onara went over to Ben's dresser and took out one of his handkerchiefs. She placed it in the box. Ben reached over and carefully laid the still sleeping voorpak into it. Onara took the box and put it on the nightstand next to Ben's bed. He looked at it for a moment, making sure Obi-Wan was comfortable. Once he was satisfied, he turned back to Onara and slid his little arms around her waist.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Yes, darling?"  
  
"Can I come with you?"  
  
Onara closed her eyes for a moment, tears stinging them.  
  
"Oh, darling, I wish you could. But Mama must go on alone. I'm going to be very busy with my new job, and I wouldn't get to spend a lot of time with you. And I wouldn't want you to be lonely. Here, you'll have Papa and Sinja- Bau, Aunt Rylea and Aunt Gendra, Shiro and Keria and, now, you even have Obi-Wan."  
  
"But, aren't you going to where the Jedi live?"  
  
"Yes, dear. Their Temple is on Coruscant."  
  
"I want to be a Jedi. Can I come with you and be a Jedi, Mama?"  
  
Again, Onara felt a stab of guilt. Ben was strong enough with the Force to have warranted admittance to the Jedi Temple, but she had wanted him here with her. It was bad enough she had lost Obi-Wan to the Jedi; she wasn't going to lose her son too. Also, complicating matters was the fact that Ben was heir to both hers and Dalan's conjoined provinces. Once he came of age, he was going to be a very powerful and influential man on Ahjane.  
  
But, Onara sometimes wondered if she had done the right thing in not letting Ben attend the Temple. Even Sinja-Bau had commented on how gifted he was with the Force and, although the ex-Jedi trained him as best she could, Onara knew that by not training at the Temple under the tutelage of the Jedi Masters her son was missing out on a lot.  
  
"Ben," Onara began as she held him close, "one day, when you're all grown up, you're going to be Dynast of our province. Do you know what that means?"  
  
Ben shook his head.  
  
"It means you're going to have great responsibility when you become a man. It will be your job to take care of the people who live in our province; to make sure they get enough to eat, have jobs where they can earn a living, and are protected and cared for if something bad happens to them."  
  
"Like the Jedi?"  
  
"Yes, like the Jedi."  
  
"Can I have a lightsaber when I'm a Dynast?"  
  
"Only Jedi can have lightsabers, darling."  
  
"Then I don't want to be a Dynast. I want to be a Jedi. Like Obi-Wan and fight dark lords and save pretty princesses."  
  
Onara sighed. It was getting late and, although she longed to spend all night with Ben, knowing she wouldn't be seeing him for awhile, it was way past his bedtime and she still had things to take care of tonight. Her ship for Coruscant was leaving early tomorrow morning.  
  
"I tell you what, Ben. When you come to Coruscant, I'll see if I can arrange for you to visit the Jedi Temple?"  
  
"Really, Mama," Ben cried as he looked up at her. "Will they let you?"  
  
Onara smiled and touched the tip of his nose with her finger. "I'm a Senator, now, remember?"  
  
"Senator Mama," Ben said, then giggled.  
  
Onara laughed with him as she hugged him tight.  
  
"Will I get to see Obi-Wan?" He asked, then glanced over at the voorpak. "Not him. The real Obi-Wan?"  
  
"I don't know, darling," Onara replied, trying to ignore the wild beating of her heart at Ben's question. "Jedi Knights are often away from the Temple, on missions that take them far across the galaxy."  
  
Ben suddenly yawned, nestling his face deep against her stomach. "Tell me a story, Mama," he said sleepily.  
  
A soft smile crinkled Onara's lips. Ben was notorious for falling asleep at the drop of hat.  
  
"And which story would you like to hear tonight?"  
  
Ben yawned again, his long-lashed eyes drooping over his eyes. "The story where Obi-Wan rescues the pretty princess from the evil dark lord."  
  
Onara made herself more comfortable, drawing Ben as close to her as she could.  
  
"Once upon a time, on a planet where the stars sang in the sky and the trees danced in the forests, there lived a beautiful princess named Sari. One day, while walking in the woods, she came upon a...."  
  
To be continued...  
  
P.S Some readers have noted that Ben doesn't act like a normal two-year old. He is not. :) He started walking and talking at one, so he's very developed for his age. 


	3. Part Three

Stars in the Darkness - Chapter Three  
  
---------------  
  
Obi-Wan tried his best to keep his expression as neutral as possible when Senator Rhygdon asked him to pose for pictures with her for the next edition of the HoloNet News.  
  
Earlier that day, when Obi-Wan had given Joyna to Senator Rhygdon, the woman had given her daughter a quick, if distracted kiss on the cheek, then immediately handed her over to her nanny. However, Obi-Wan noted that when the reporters from HoloNet News arrived at her estate, having heard of Joyna's rescue from the dissidents by the Jedi, she ordered Joyna, who had been checked over earlier by a healer, fed, bathed and was taking a nap, awakened and brought downstairs, still in her sleep gown.  
  
Obi-Wan who, along with Anakin, was in the Senator's spacious and luxuriously decorated living room waiting for the reporters to be allowed in, watched with growing disgust as the Senator scolded Joyna's nanny for having taken so long in bringing the girl to her. Then, once Joyna was in her arms, the Senator suddenly produced a floodgate of tears from her ice- blue, owlish eyes. Joyna, who was still sleepy from her nap, tired to rest her little head on her mother's shoulder, but Senator Rhygdon kept pushing it up, demanding she wake up.  
  
She gestured brusquely for the servants to let the reporters in, even as the tears continued to pour down her long, heavy-jowled face. The gaggle of reporters, holo-cameras flashing, quickly gathered around the distraught Senator, shooting questions at her left and right.  
  
Obi-Wan then observed, with no lack of annoyance, that Senator Rhygdon spent more time talking about the irresponsibility and lack of respect of Nidaian youth for her and her position, and her displeasure with the particularly strident demonstrations that had been going on for the past few months at the planet's universities in objection to her and her policies, than on Joyna's kidnapping.  
  
Finally, when one of the reporters asked about the Jedi who had rescued Joyna, the Senator had grudgingly looked over at Obi-Wan and Anakin where they had been standing on the other side of the room, nodding for them to join her as she quickly handed Joyna back to her nanny.  
  
Obi-Wan, who had his arms crossed tightly within the sleeves of his robe had not moved, for he had no intention of being part of Senator's Rhygdon's self-serving circus, but when Anakin bumped him gently with his shoulder and whispered, "Remember, Master, it'll be good PR for the Order," he reluctantly joined his apprentice, dryly noting that Anakin was certainly not going to pass up an opportunity to get his picture on the HoloNet News.  
  
Now, the Senator, whose flood of tears had suddenly dried up, had her arms around both Anakin's and Obi-Wan's shoulders, smiling widely as she posed with them for the holo-cameras.  
  
"Master Kenobi," one of the reporters said, a Bith who identified himself as Srilishan Sultal, staff writer for the HoloNews Net's Jedi Watch Bureau, "What's your opinion of the recent debates within the Senate regarding rising concerns that the Jedi Order is ill-equipped to deal with a large scale threat to the Republic and, therefore, the Republic should look into the creation of a standing army?"  
  
Before Obi-Wan could answer, however, Senator Rhygdon pulled away from him and Anakin and, leaning forward, shook a finger at Sultal.  
  
"Now, now, that's not what this news conference is about. I agreed to it with the understanding that the questions would only concern events here on Nida."  
  
The reporter was about to protest, but the Senator interrupted him.  
  
"There are drinks and food in the reception room just across the way," she announced.  
  
At her words, the gaggle of reporters turned as one and raced out of the living room. It was soon empty, except for Obi-Wan, Anakin, the Senator, Joyna and her nanny.  
  
"I apologize for that, Master Kenobi," Rhygdon said with a thin smile.  
  
"No need," Obi-Wan replied.  
  
"That seems to be the topic of the hour in the Senate these last few months," she stated. "An Army for the Republic. An Army for the Republic. The Chamber resounds with that cry until nothing else can be heard."  
  
"It is somewhat understandable, Senator," Obi-Wan began. "The Separatist Movement----"  
  
"Is nothing but a bunch of malcontents and faultfinders," she grumbled as she went and stood in front of her black marble fireplace. It was unlit, but the Senator held her long-fingered hands before it as if she were warming them before a fire.  
  
"In a few months, this so-called movement will fade away," she went on firmly. "Like mist in the morning."  
  
Obi-Wan said nothing. He wasn't so sure about that. The Separatist movement was, according to the reports Obi-Wan had read from the Jedi Order, gaining momentum and more star systems, if not joining the Separatists, were at least listening to the impassioned rhetoric of its leader, the charismatic ex-Jedi Count Dooku.  
  
The Senator turned back to Obi-Wan and Anakin. "I won't deny that we have lost a number of systems to the movement, but we have also gained. Why, just this month the Senate voted to give full membership status to the system of Ahjane. And, last week the Ahjane people elected their first Senator. A woman by the name of Onara Lenor."  
  
Obi-Wan, as he looked across at Rhygdon, kept his face expressionless, but inside his heart was beating hard and fast. Two things had struck him when he heard Onara's name. One was the fact she was now a Senator of the Republic. The other was hearing her name in combination with that of her husband's family name. He closed his eyes for just a moment. _Her husband_.  
  
"I was not aware of that," Obi-Wan replied smoothly, amazed that his voice did not betray his agitation. "Anakin and I have been out on the Outer Rim these last few months and had heard little from Coruscant regarding events in the Senate. It is, however, welcome news. We once paid a visit to Ahjane. The system and its homeworld will be a welcome addition to the Republic."  
  
"What about this Onara woman? Know anything about her?" Rhygdon asked, one heavy, dark brow arching up as she looked over at Obi-Wan with her cold, blue eyes.  
  
Obi-Wan swallowed hard before answering. "She is a woman of great strength and compassion."  
  
Rhygdon shook her head contemptuously as she moved away from the fireplace and back towards the Jedi.  
  
"Compassion," she muttered. "Compassion is well and good, Master Jedi, if you're a priest or a poet, but compassion will get you nowhere in that rancor pit known as the Senate Chamber. I hear she's quite young. Unless she divests herself of her _compassion_, she will be eaten alive by that pack of vornskrs."  
  
And you chief among them, Obi-Wan thought, but did not voice. He did not know Senator Rhygdon well, but he wondered if she had been so embittered before her husband's death two years earlier in a boating accident on one of the lakes of their estate. It happened just after Joyna was born.  
  
"I think you underestimate Senator Lenor," Obi-Wan said softly, his mind still wheeling over Onara now being known in that way. "She's a very strong and capable young woman."  
  
Rhygdon shrugged. Then she glanced over at the nanny who had been furtively trying to get her attention, not wanting to interrupt her conversation with the Jedi.  
  
"Madam, please," the nanny pleaded, a round-cheeked, golden-skinned woman with braided, black hair. "May I put Joyna to bed?"  
  
Rhygdon stared at the nanny as if she were some bothersome fly that kept buzzing about her head.  
  
"Yes, yes, put her to bed," she said irritably, shooing both her and Joyna away.  
  
As the woman turned to leave, Obi-Wan heard the little girl's soft, sleepy voice.  
  
"No, no, want Obi-One."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced over at Anakin as he chuckled. The young Jedi, noting his master's eyes on him, immediately smoothed out his face, but his eyes were still sparkling with laughter.  
  
"Joyna," Senator Rhygdon snapped, "I'm sure Master Kenobi has better things to do---"  
  
"No, it's all right, Senator," Obi-Wan said as he went over to Joyna and her nanny. "I would be honored to put her to bed."  
  
"Suit yourself," the Senator said with a shrug. Then her eyes narrowed. "I think I'll join that pack of neks who call themselves reporters. They've had sufficient time to empty my wine cabinets. Perhaps now that their lips have been loosened, I'll pick up some interesting tidbits of information."  
  
The Senator was about to leave the room, then turned and looked over at Anakin.  
  
"Care to join me?" she asked.  
  
Anakin glanced over at Obi-Wan. The older Jedi hesitated for a moment, then nodded his consent. Anakin grinned and walked over to the Senator. She took him by the arm and lead him to the reception hall. Obi-Wan turned to Joyna. He reached for her and she quickly came into his arms. The nanny gestured for him to follow her. They went up the wide staircase to Joyna's room where the nanny opened the door and Obi-Wan stepped inside.  
  
Thick blue drapes had been drawn over the large windows, but the nanny lit a small glow lamp on a table near the bed. Obi-Wan saw a gaily decorated room, the walls and ceiling painted with stars and moons. A huge blue and gold four-poster bed with satin coverlets dominated the room. Obi-Wan walked over to it. Joyna, whose head was on his shoulder, lifted it and looked over at her bed. She yawned hugely as Obi-Wan placed her gently on it and pulled the covers over her. She looked up at him, her large green eyes half lidded.  
  
"Story, Obi-One."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced over at the nanny who was watching them with a soft smile on her face.  
  
"I usually tell her a bed-time story, Master Jedi. She thinks it's nighttime."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled in understanding. He turned and, removing his robe and placing it on a nearby chair, sat next to Joyna on her bed.  
  
"What kind of story would you like to hear?" he asked in a low, soft voice.  
  
"A princess story."  
  
"Ah, a princess story," Obi-Wan replied smiling.  
  
She nodded. "With a puppy."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled wider. "Well, let's see what I can come up with," he said.  
  
He wasn't very good at telling stories, but he supposed he could come up with something. Joyna was so drowsy, she would probably fall asleep long before he finished it. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had never told any kind of story to a child, and he wasn't sure where to begin. Then he thought of something.  
  
He reached inside his tunic and pulled out the pendant he wore around his neck. Dynast K'lia, Onara's father, had given it to him two years ago before he had gone on his quest to find Sinja-Bau. He had worn it ever since. He opened it and pressed the bottom. The tiny holographic image of Onara and infant Ben coalesced over it. It was the only picture he had of Ben, but he was well aware that his son was now the same age as Joyna. He showed the image to her.  
  
"Would you like to hear a story about her?" Obi-Wan asked as he gazed at Onara, her dark eyes smiling warmly at him as she held their son in her arms.  
  
She nodded eagerly. "Pretty."  
  
"Yes, very," Obi-Wan said softly.  
  
He closed the pendant and put it back beneath his tunic. Seeing Onara's face had inspired him, reminding him of the story she had told him the night of the blessing ceremony. He put his arm around Joyna and she snuggled against him. The nanny, giving him a warmhearted smile, turned and left the room, closing the door gently behind her.  
  
"Once upon a time," Obi-Wan began, "on a world where puppies were as plentiful as little girls' smiles, but sometimes ran away, there was a beautiful princess named Onara and one day she met a knight who had come to her palace to...to help her find her lost puppy."  
  
Joyna smiled up at him, and Obi-Wan released a breath. So far, so good, he thought. But, as he went on with the story, even as he enjoyed being with Joyna he couldn't help but think of Ben, and he wondered what kinds of stories Onara told him.  
  
-----------  
  
Taking a deep breath, Onara put her hand on the white crystal handle of the thick mahogany door to her and Dalan's bedroom. Ben had finally drifted off to sleep, but not until Onara had finished the story about Obi-Wan and the Dark Lord. It was late, although not so late that Dalan would be asleep. Like her, he kept long hours.  
  
She opened the door and walked in. The bedroom she and her husband shared used to belong to her father. Although, over the years, it had been extensively redecorated, Onara had kept the large Tivinai Provincial bed with its thick, silver-filigreed, leaf-carved posts and arched blondwood canopy, for it had belonged to her parents. She had been very grateful when, after their marriage, Dalan had agreed to make her father's manor their new home, for she had not wanted to leave the place where, although there were painful memories, there were also happy ones. And, up in a far corner of the manor, was a small room that had been closed off for nearly three years and was rarely visited, except by Onara on days when Dalan was away from the manor. It was the nuptial chamber where she and Obi-Wan had participated in the blessing ceremony and conceived Ben.  
  
As Onara walked across the thick fawn-colored carpet she saw Dalan was, as she suspected, still awake. He was wearing, however, a thick, garnet- colored brocaded dressing gown. He sat in a blue, high-backed, upholstered chair, flexsheets and data disks scattered about him on the floor. Last year he had begun to have trouble with his eyesight, but leery of having any kind of surgery done to his eyes, had taken to wearing spectacles which made him look like an attractive, if somewhat distracted, professor. He had them on as he read over a flexsheet in his hand.  
  
"Did he finally go to sleep?" he asked as Onara walked over to him, not looking up from the sheet he was reading.  
  
Onara stopped next to his chair. She stood, her hands clasped before her wide, green skirt.  
  
"Yes. Although he tried his best to stay awake, he finally went to sleep. He'd had quite a day."  
  
Dalan looked up from his flexsheet, his dark blue eyes peering at her through the clear frames of his spectacles. "I heard what happened with the packing box."  
  
Onara nodded, her fingers tightening. "You must promise me, Dalan, that you will keep an eye on him while I'm gone."  
  
Dalan looked at her for a moment. He put the flexhseet on the floor and stood. He was at least a foot and a half taller than her. He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them gently.  
  
"Of course I will watch over him, my love. You need not worry."  
  
Onara bit her lips as she felt tears stinging her eyes. "I've never been apart from him. I don't know..." She stopped and shook her head.  
  
Dalan drew her close to him and put his arms around him. She let herself rest against his broad chest.  
  
"It will be hard, at first," he said gently. "But you and he will not be parted for long. Once you're all settled in, Sinja-Bau and I will bring him to you."  
  
"But, I don't know if I should have you bring him to me."  
  
Dalan drew back and looked down at her, puzzlement in his eyes. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Will Coruscant be a good place for him? A planet that's an entire city? He's so used to being here, where there are trees and birds, green grass and fresh air."  
  
"There are green places on Coruscant," Dalan replied as he stroked her hair. "And, don't forget, there's the Skydome Botanical Gardens, the Galactic Museum, and the Holographic Zoo. For a boy as curious and bright as Ben, Coruscant will be a dream come true."  
  
Onara noted Dalan had not mentioned the Jedi Temple, a place Ben never tired of wanting to visit for that was where the hero of his stories lived. She pulled away from Dalan and walked over to her dressing area.  
  
"I suppose you're right," she said as she took off her clothes and put on a white-gold robe.  
  
Tying the robe around her slim waist she sat at her dressing table and undid her bun. Her dark hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror. She saw a woman of twenty with large dark eyes that dominated a face much too small for such eyes. There were soft shadows under those eyes and they seemed to stare right through her. Looking up, she saw Dalan move up behind her in the mirror's reflection. Like her he was dark haired, but his eyes, a rarity among the dark-eyed Ahjane, were a deep, rich indigo.  
  
Onara had looked into those eyes, the eyes of her husband, the eyes of the man with whom she had shared, not only her bed, but her dreams for Ahjane, and she had wanted to fall into them and lose herself, had wanted to love those eyes with all that was in her, and dream of them when she went to sleep at night. But it was not Dalan's eyes she saw in her dreams.  
  
Dalan put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. Onara's reflection smiled at him, but inside, she was empty. She was nothing but a fraud, she suddenly realized, participating in the most horrible of deceptions: pretending to love a man she did not love. On the surface, their marriage had been a good one, if by good one meant they'd had no major disagreements, had worked well together, both as spouses and as partners, and had joined together in giving Ben a warm and loving home in which he believed Dalan was his father and loved him as much as Onara did.  
  
The only blight on their marriage had been Onara's miscarriage six months ago. She still remembered how happy Dalan had been when she'd told him she was pregnant, for although he loved Ben as dearly as if he were his own son, Onara knew he longed desperately for a child of his own. The Ahjane were a lineage-conscious people and blood was everything. Onara's pregnancy has still been early enough she did not show, but late enough she knew it was a girl she carried, so when that terrible day happened and she had started to bleed while attending a meeting of the Assembly and was rushed to the hospital, Ben had not known he had lost a sister that day.  
  
Onara had mourned the loss of her daughter, crying non-stop for nearly a week and trying as best she could to hide her grief from Ben, but for Dalan, the miscarriage sent him into weeks of a soul-numbing depression. For awhile, Onara suspected he even blamed her for not having taken better care of herself, but there had been no indication her pregnancy was a high- risk one. She had felt perfectly fine.  
  
And then, there was that night. That terrible night when a storm had beat against the manor the likes of which had not been seen in years. Lightning had crashed, thunder had roared, and the wind had howled like a pack of valkons. The storm woke Ben up and he cried out for his mother. Onara, as she left the bed, noting Dalan was not in it, went to comfort her son but, instead, discovered her husband staggering down the dark hallway near their room. He had been drinking, and quite heavily.  
  
Words were exchanged between them which Onara still shuddered to recall for Dalan hurled wild, drunken accusations at her, his blue eyes bleary and red- rimmed, his voice slurring with both drink and grief. He accused her of not wanting to have any child of his, along with baseless, fantastic allegations that Sinja-Bau had done something to Onara when she cured her of her midi-chlorian poisoning so Onara could have no children except by a Jedi, and most damming of all, and the only true thing he had said as far as Onara was concerned, that she still loved Obi-Wan, would always love the Jedi and would never love him.  
  
Onara had called for the servants to take Dalan away and sober him up. She had then gone to see Ben, who asked tearfully why Papa was so angry and was it he who was making the sky growl. She finally got him to sleep, but for a week following that night, too angry at Dalan to even face him, Onara slept in Ben's room until Sinja-Bau intervened and told her and Dalan to stop acting like children, at least for Ben's sake.  
  
Dalan had profusely apologized to Onara once she had deigned to speak to him again and, as recompense, had taken her and Ben on a planet-wide tour of Ahjane, which Ben had enjoyed immensely. Onara and Dalan had made up during the trip and nothing like what had occurred that stormy night had happened since, for Onara had gone out of her way to be understanding and supportive of her husband. She had not had to marry him, she reminded herself constantly, despite what the Assembly had wanted and Obi-Wan had urged. She could have gone on alone as Ben's regent, ruling their province until he was of age, living and sleeping alone.  
  
But she had married Dalan, even when she knew in her heart she did not love him. She liked him, respected him, even felt a deep fondness for the way he had taken Ben to heart, but she did not love him and never would. And, sometimes, over the past two years, the guilt she had felt would nearly overwhelm her, and she would find someplace in the manor or deep in the forests that surrounded it where she could shed her tears in private.  
  
Ben needed a father, she would tell herself as she wept; Ahjane needed peace and stability if it ever hoped to become a full member of the Republic, and a marriage between her and Dalan, who was now Dynast of the province her people had once been at war with, would ensure that, and Obi- Wan, who had encouraged the marriage, had needed to not feel guilty for having chosen the Jedi Order over her and Ben, a decision she had actively encouraged, for she had not wanted to see him destroyed. Thus, with her marriage to Dalan, everyone's needs had been met. Except hers.  
  
Now, as Dalan continued to gently rub her shoulders, his hands moving slowly down her back, Onara felt a chill trickling down her spine. She knew Dalan wanted her to come to bed, fall into his arms and let him love her before she left for Coruscant, to reassure himself he would not lose her to her new responsibilities as Senator or to that phantom he imagined haunted their marriage.  
  
But, as Onara rose from her dressing table and let her husband take her to their bed, she knew it was no phantom that haunted them. Obi-Wan Kenobi was as real to Onara as Dalan was. Perhaps, in a way, he was even more real for he lived in her heart. And, as had happened every night of their marriage, when Dalan held her and whispered her name, it was Obi-Wan's arms Onara felt around her and his voice she heard and when Dalan kissed her, it was Obi-Wan's lips she kissed back.  
  
To be continued... 


	4. Part Four

Stars in the Darkness - Part Four  
  
-----------  
  
Anakin hunched down, his eyes peering through the thick, dark green foliage to the thicket ahead. On both sides of him he knew the members of the Gowri hunting band were also well hidden behind the trees. For the past two days he, Obi-Wan and the Gowri had been hunting a pack of _manasa_, the fierce, deadly predators of Raggan. The pack had attacked some Gowri females who had been gathering herbs near the village. One of the females had been killed, three others wounded.  
  
The wind, which was thick with the piney scent of the trees was, fortunately, blowing towards Anakin and the hunting band, so the _manasa_ could not smell them. Nigal, chief of the Green River tribe, had warned Obi- Wan and Anakin that the pack that attacked the Gowri women was led by a female they called the Old One. She was aged, but she was also cunning and vicious. The hunting party had finally tracked the Old One and her pack's spoor to Red Top Mountain. Obi-Wan and Nigal had scouted around and discovered a cave hidden behind the copse of trees ahead.  
  
Anakin glanced over at Meeko. Like all Gowri males, he had leathery brown skin and a wide, powerful chest. His flat-featured face was covered with short, dark hair and his long pointed ears twitched eagerly. Over the two weeks Anakin and Obi-Wan had been on Raggan, the young Jedi had become especially close to Meeko. Maybe because, in Gowri age, Meeko was the closest to Anakin's and, like him, was considered something of a novice, an apprentice so to speak, to the older, more experienced hunters.  
  
Meeko grinned at Anakin, his round tawny eyes glittering in the darkness of the tress. His long, gray stone blowpipe was in his hand, ready to be used at a moment's notice. Anakin also carried a blowpipe and, like Meeko, was dressed only in a dark green loincloth. His body had been painted by the Gowri females to help him blend in with the trees. Anakin grinned back at Meeko, then shifted his gaze over to where he could just make out Obi-Wan as he and Nigal moved silently through the trees. Like Anakin, Obi-Wan wore only a loincloth, his body painted in swirling colors of green, black and deep brown. He also carried a stone blowpipe.  
  
When Obi-Wan, once they had departed from Nida on a transport, told Anakin they were going to make a stop at Raggan, Anakin had been surprised. The planet was a remote world located just on the edge of Hutt Space. It had no industry nor large cities. It was a protected world, one of the few the Republic had set aside as forbidden for any kind of industrialization or exploitation, therefore it was lush, wild and dangerous. The Jedi were allowed to visit it and use it for survival training. Obi-Wan had brought Anakin to Raggan when he was ten. The two had spent three weeks here, with Obi-Wan often leaving Anakin alone for days on end so that he could learn to survive on his own. It had been a frightening and exhilarating experience.  
  
Therefore, Anakin had looked forward to returning to Raggan and its inhabitants, the Gowri. Living totally without technology of any kind, the Gowri had fascinated Anakin. Although they had kept pretty much to themselves when Obi-Wan and Anakin were here for his survival training, Anakin knew Obi-Wan had a close relationship with Nigal, leader of the Green River Tribe. Though how or when that relationship had developed, Anakin had no clue. But, he thought, as the wind picked up a bit and dried the sweat on his face, his master knew lots of different kinds of people. Take that so-called chef back on Coruscant, the Besalik Dexter Jettster. Who would have thought someone like Obi-Wan would not only know, but be close friends with such a person. But he was.  
  
As for why Obi-Wan had decided to delay his and Anakin's return to Coruscant by stopping off on Raggan, Anakin had noted that since hearing the news Onara was a Senator, Obi-Wan had become quieter and more withdrawn. Not in a negative way, but in a way that signaled he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Two years ago, Anakin would have been hurt by his master's withdrawal, taking it as a sign he had disappointed him in some way, but since Obi-Wan's return from his retreat on Bestine, he had become more open with Anakin. Therefore, he had respected his master's need to be alone, knowing that if and when Obi-Wan wished to share his thoughts with Anakin, he would.  
  
He then heard the soft, low whistle from Obi-Wan signaling he and his group of Gowri were about to advance. Glancing over at Meeko, who grinned even wider, his sharp yellow teeth seeming to glow in his dark face, the two moved forward, their blowpipes at the ready. At first Anakin had balked at the idea of hunting the _manasa_ with only blowpipes, but Obi-Wan had made it clear the Gowri forbade the use of any kind of technology in their hunts. They didn't consider it, and the edge of Obi-Wan's mouth had quirked up, sporting.  
  
However, once Anakin had used the blowpipe a few times, practicing on pieces of fruit, he had learned to appreciate the skill with which one had to use it. Now, as he and Meeko moved forward he made sure the woven pouch that contained his poisoned darts hung at his waist. He also had to admit it felt pretty good moving through the forest, his feet bare, his body unclothed except for the loincloth. Not that he didn't like his Jedi clothing, especially since he had designed his outfit himself, but he felt closer to the earth this way. Not only did his skin blend in with the trees and brush around him as result of his painted on camouflage, but so did his thoughts. He felt himself sinking into what the Jedi called the Living Force, his mind becoming green and dark and damp like the ground upon which he moved.  
  
As the Force flowed through Anakin, he tried to detect if the _manasa_ were near, but he couldn't tell if they were in the cave or someplace else. He saw Obi-Wan moving closer up on his right. His master's beard was speckled with tiny bits of the golden leaves from the _anica_ tress. The Gowri had approved of Obi-Wan's beard, but had made fun of Anakin for not having one. Obi-Wan later told him they didn't consider Anakin civilized since he was beardless. Now, as Anakin moved closer to the cave, his blowpipe at the ready, he wondered if he should try to grow one.  
  
Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, Anakin heard the high-pitched scream of the _manasa_. It sent a chill down his spine for it sounded unnervingly like that of a woman. Looking to his right, he saw a black shape streaking through the trees. Anakin swiftly inserted darts into his blowpipe and blew them at the shape. The _manasa_ screeched as the darts hit its side. It flew past where Obi-Wan and the other Gowri were, crashing into a tree.  
  
Another high-pitched scream followed another, and soon the area around Anakin and the others was filled with _manasa_ The two Jedi and the Gowri were surrounded. But, Anakin knew the Gowri had been hunting the _manasa_ for thousands of years and were not easily cowered, and Anakin and his master, although they were not using their lightsabers, were quite capable of holding their own. As a _manasa_ tumbled next to Anakin, darks quivering in its chest, he happened to glance over and saw a sight that made his mouth go dry.  
  
Obi-Wan, who was helping one of the Gowri who had been wounded, didn't see the _manasa_ slinking along a branch just over his head. Most of the pack were dead, but this one, its fur frosted with white, could only be the Old One, the wily _manasa_ female Chief Nigal had warned them about. As Anakin raced towards his master, the Old One, with a growl, launched herself at Obi-Wan's back.  
  
----------------  
  
Sinja-Bau, dressed in a long, ivory-colored sleep gown, sat on a green meditation cushion, her legs crossed in front of her, her hands resting lightly on her knees. During her long years of madness, she had been too lost in the firestorm that was her insanity to ever find the peace she needed to meditate, but when her sanity, along with her ability to use the Force, was restored to her two years ago, not a night had gone by when she did not take time to meditate before retiring for the night.  
  
As she drifted within the formlessness that was her meditation, a part of her observed that before she had gone mad, her metaphorical conception of the Force had been like that of many; a great river of energy, moving through body and spirit. But, once she was sane again, Sinja-Bau's perception of the Force changed. In her meditation the Force drifted down through her mind like snow, a gentle sifting of millions of tiny flakes until, once she reached the apex of her meditation, her mind was an empty, white field of peace, with no division between earth and sky. Pristine, serene, tranquil.  
  
Now, however, Sinja-Bau felt a disturbance in the Force which troubled her meditation. She immediately reached out to Ben, fearing he was, perhaps, having a nightmare. But, as she gently touched his mind, he was deeply asleep, dreaming, she imagined with a wry smile, of fighting star-dragons and dark lords alongside his hero, Obi-Wan. Pulling away from Ben's mind, she reached out further. Then she sighed heavily. Rising from her cushion, she drew on a light pink satin robe and, sitting in a chair, her white hair flowing across her shoulders, waited for her visitor.  
  
Even before the knock came, Sinja-Bau called out. "Come in, Onara."  
  
The door opened and Onara peeked around it, her dark eyes wide. Sinja-Bau smiled at her and gestured for her to enter.  
  
"Please forgive me, Sinja-Bau," Onara said in a soft voice. "I know it's late but---"  
  
"You could not sleep," Sinja-Bau finished, smiling warmly. "You know you are always welcome to come and see me."  
  
Onara nodded, but Sinja-Bau could see in her eyes she still felt guilty for having disturbed her. Over the past two years, the relationship between the ex-Jedi and the young woman had blossomed until it could only be defined as that of a mother and daughter. Onara, who had never known her mother, she having died soon after giving birth to Onara, and Sinja-Bau never having had a child of her own, had both filled a need in the other. Sinja-Bau had become more than just Ben's nanny and teacher. She was Onara's surrogate mother.  
  
Onara moved further into the room. She was wearing a lavender sleep gown, her black hair somewhat tousled as it tumbled over her slender shoulders. She looked, to Sinja-Bau, like some fairy-tale princess who had just awoken from a centuries-long sleep. Except, no princess in a story would have such haunted eyes. As Onara came towards her, Sinja-Bau expected her to take one of the chairs next to her but, instead, the young woman ran over and, falling to the floor at Sinja-Bau's feet, put her head on the older woman's knees and began to weep. Sinja-Bau put her hand on Onara's hair and stroked it.  
  
"What is it, little one?" she asked gently.  
  
"I...I feel so terrible, Sinja-Bau," Onara sobbed, her face pressed tight against Sinja-Bau's thigh, her tears soaking the robe she was wearing.  
  
"Why do you feel terrible?"  
  
Onara raised her head and looked up at Sinja-Bau, her dark eyes swimming with her tears. "Dalan cried in my arms tonight."  
  
Sinja-Bau nodded, but said nothing, waiting for Onara to go on. The younger woman wiped at her face.  
  
"After we had made love, he began to cry. He hasn't cried since the day we lost the baby. I asked him what was wrong. He said...he said he was afraid. Afraid of losing me."  
  
Again, Sinja-Bau remained silent. She had made it a point not to interfere in Onara's marriage to Dalan, recognizing the political need for it, but she had been concerned about it. No good could come of a marriage where one person loved someone who loved another.  
  
"I tried to reassure him he would not, but I couldn't say the words." Onara bit her lip and looked sorrowfully up at Sinja-Bau. "When I'm with Dalan, I think of Obi-Wan," she confessed, her cheeks coloring. "I know I shouldn't. I know it's wrong and it's not fair to Dalan. He's been so good and so kind, and he's taken Ben to heart as if he were his own son. And there are not many Ahjane men who would have done so. Especially since Ben was conceived during a blessing ceremony. And how do I repay his kindness? By imagining I'm with another man." Onara fiercely shook her head. "No, it's even worse than that. By hoping and praying that when I go to Coruscant, I will see that man. I'm a terrible, selfish person, Sinja-Bau!"  
  
Sinja-Bau cupped Onara's face between her hands, stroking her tear-stained cheeks. "No, you are not. You're just a human being, subject to the same doubts and temptations and failings we all have. You married a man you did not love so that your son would have a father and you could help the people of your world. You let go of the man you did love so that he would remain whole in his spirit. I don't think a selfish person would have done such things. But, you are right, it's not fair to Dalan to treat him so."  
  
Onara nodded. "I know," she whispered, her voice filled with tears. "I've tried so hard to love him. I truly have. When I found out I was pregnant, I was so happy. Not only because I longed for another child, but because I hoped it would make things easier for us. But then we lost the baby. And, I fear, even if she had lived..." and Onara stopped for a moment, swallowing heavily..."it would not have changed my feelings for Obi-Wan. Oh, Sinja- Bau, I love him! I love him so much. And I miss him so. And every time I look at Ben, I see him. And it hurts. It hurts so much!"  
  
"I know it does, dear, I know," Sinja-Bau said soothingly.  
  
Onara wept again, and Sinja-Bau stroked her hair and, through the Force, sent her waves of gentle comfort. Soon, Onara's tears subsided. She lifted her reddened, swollen face to Sinja-Bau.  
  
"After Dalan finished crying," she said softly, "he finally went to sleep. But I couldn't sleep. I just lay there and watched him. And I realized that, no matter why it was done, I willingly married him. And he is my husband and I must be true to him and honor the vows we took."  
  
Sinja-Bau listened quietly as she saw something shift in Onara's dark eyes.  
  
"I'm going to be a good wife to him from now on," she said firmly. "And I'm going to be a good Senator for my people and a good mother to Ben. And those will be the only things in my life. Obi-Wan...Obi-Wan is the past, and I must let go of the past. I must give up my girlish dreams and become a woman now. Dalan is my husband and, although he is not Ben's father by blood, he's the only father he's known. I will, someday, tell Ben about Obi- Wan, but for now, I must...I must forget him."  
  
Sinja-Bau stroked Onara's cheek. "That's going to be a little hard, don't you think, being on Coruscant. Obi-Wan may be away from the Temple now, but at some point he will return."  
  
"I know, but I don't see how our paths will cross, do you? Coruscant is a big planet, filled with billions of people."  
  
Sinja-Bau sighed. "You must do what you think best, Onara," was all she said in reply. "But, remember, the heart is a stubborn, yet fragile organ. Try to make it go in a direction it does not wish and it could break."  
  
Onara nodded, then rose from the floor. "I understand. But, I have made my decision, and it is what is best. For all concerned. Upon the oath I took when I became Senator that I would faithfully serve my people, I now swear I will be as equally faithful to my husband."  
  
Then Onara smiled softly, though there were still tears on her face. She leaned over and kissed the older woman on her cheek.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for staying with us. I don't know what I would have done without you."  
  
Sinja-Bau reached up and gave Onara a hug. "And thank you for giving me a home."  
  
Onara pulled away. Sinja-Bau patted her arm. "Now, go to bed and get some rest. You'll be leaving early in the morning."  
  
"Yes, Mother," Onara said teasingly, but her eyes were sparkling. Sinja- Bau's heart warmed at the word.  
  
Onara gave her another quick kiss, then turned and left the room. Once the door had closed, Sinja-Bau released a heavy breath. It had taken all her willpower not to tell Onara of her vision. The one she'd had just before her sanity was restored to her. It was of Onara and Obi-Wan, their arms about each other as they walked through wide golden fields on a planet Sinja-Bau hadn't recognized. She had kept that vision secret for the past two years, and she would continue to do so, for as Master Yoda had intoned often enough that Sinja-Bau, when she was at the Temple, had thought of it as the old Jedi's mantra, always in motion was the future.  
  
The destiny that lay before Onara and Obi-Wan was as twisted and as convoluted as a knot, and what paths would lead them to Sinja-Bau's vision or take them from it, she did not know. She only knew that it was going to very hard for Onara to hold to the vow she had just sworn to be faithful to Dalan, and Sinja-Bau feared what the consequences would be when the time came Onara broke that vow.  
  
------------  
  
Anakin inwardly groaned as still another Gowri female walked over to him where he sat with the Gowri hunters and Obi-Wan around the village fire. A wooden bowl full of _manasa_ meat was in her hands. She bowed to him, then placed the bowl next to the dozen other bowls that surrounded him. He nodded to her, smiling, but trying not to get sick from the now overpowering smell of the cooked meat.  
  
He looked over to where Obi-Wan was sitting next to Nigal and noted the laughing light in his master's eyes. It was all right for him to think it funny, Anakin grumbled to himself. He wasn't being feted like a potentate because he had killed some mangy old creature. Then he saw Obi-Wan lean over and whisper something in Nigal's pointed ear. The chief nodded and raised his arms.  
  
"You have honored Swift Shadow enough for the killing of the Old One. He asks that any more meat be shared among the tribe," the Gowri chieftain cried out.  
  
Howls and ululations of delight rose from the tribe at Nigal's words. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan and threw his master a silent thank you with his eyes. Obi-Wan nodded, smiling. Then he whispered something else in Nigal's ear.  
  
The chief nodded. "Bright Blade says that his learner would like to also share the meat he has earned for killing the Old One. The young ones will go first."  
  
Anakin watched as the Gowri children, shyly and hesitatingly, approached him. Trying not to bend too far over, for the scratches in his sides still stung, Anakin passed them some of the bowls of steaming meat. The children took the bowls from his hand, making noises that Anakin assumed was laughter. He smiled at them. Once the children had departed, there were only a few bowls left. Those were soon passed around until only one remained. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan. The Jedi gestured with his hand and mouth that Anakin eat the meat.  
  
The younger Jedi sighed. He didn't relish eating the flesh of a creature he'd killed, but he knew the Gowri expected it. He reached over and gingerly picked up a piece of the meat. He put it in his mouth. The meat was pungent, but not bad. He picked up some more pieces and popped them into his mouth. Soon the bowl was empty. One of the females gave him a bowl of cold, spring water. Drinking thirstily, Anakin washed down the meal. Then, setting the empty water bowl down, he thought to himself that it was better the Old One was inside his stomach instead of him being inside hers.  
  
When the Old One had launched herself at Obi-Wan's unsuspecting back, Anakin had reacted purely on instinct. He had seen only that his master was in danger and that was all that had registered in his mind. The fact that he was out of darts, the fact that he did not have his lightsaber, and the fact that the _manasa_ outweighed him by 100 pounds had not mattered. All that had concerned him was that his master was about to be killed. So, using the Force to speed him across the thick undergrowth of the forest, he slammed into the Old One, pushing both the creature and himself past Obi- Wan who, Anakin saw out of the corner of his eye, had dropped and was protecting the wounded Gowri with his body when he sensed the Old One's attack.  
  
However, once Anakin saw Obi-Wan was out of danger, he now found himself with an armful of scratching, biting, snarling, stinking _manasa_. Dimly, Anakin heard the shouts and cries of the Gowri as they ran towards him, but he knew he didn't have much time. The creature, although she was old, was fierce and struggled terribly in his arms, her sharp claws deeply scratching his chest and sides. Concentrating as hard as he could, despite the wild pounding of his heart, Anakin reached out with the Force and wrapped it around the _manasa's_ heart. Then, with a hard grunt, he mentally squeezed and, with a low, shuddering growl, the creature died.  
  
Anakin had released his concentration and, with the creature lying heavily on him, had just lain on the ground, starring up at the blue pieces of sky that peeked through the tall tops of the trees. At first, both Obi-Wan and the Gowri had thought him dead, for he not moved nor stirred when they called his name as they rolled the Old One off him. Obi-Wan, in particular, had knelt down and, cradling Anakin's head in his arms, had called out his name in a voice that was so filled with loss and pain, it had almost made Anakin cry. Then, when Anakin had weakly answered Obi-Wan, he had been surprised and greatly touched to see tears in those blue-gray eyes.  
  
The Gowri had quickly built a stretcher, while Obi-Wan, with the help of Nigal, used some of the herbs the Gowri carried to stop Anakin's bleeding. He had then been carried back to the tribe's village, along with the dead _manasa_ and the carcass of the Old One and, as he recovered in the hut he shared with Obi-Wan, had learned that not only had the Gowri been greatly impressed with his bare-handed killing of the Old One, they had decided that, despite the fact he was beardless, he was now one of the People and had even given him a name. Swift Shadow.  
  
Now, as the feast honoring him, Obi-Wan and the other hunters was finally winding down, Anakin again nodded and smiled at each Gowri who passed him and bowed as they made their way to their huts. Soon, only Anakin, Obi-Wan and Nigal remained by the fire. For awhile, the only sounds was the popping and crackling of the fire and the low voices of the Gowri in their huts as they settled down to sleep. Obi-Wan, who had been staring into the fire, looked over at Anakin.  
  
"Are you ready for bed?" he asked gently.  
  
Anakin, although most of his wounds had healed as a result of his master's Force healing and the ministrations of the Gowri, still needed a little help walking for the pain in his sides was still sharp.  
  
"I'd like to stay up for a bit, Master," Anakin said. He looked around at the velvet darkness of the trees surrounding them and the star-sparkled sky. "It's a beautiful night."  
  
Obi-Wan looked up and smiled. "Yes, it is. All right, but when you're ready, let me know."  
  
"I will, Master."  
  
Anakin settled back on the cushions that the Gowri had given him to lay on, making himself comfortable. Then, crossing his arms over his chest, he closed his eyes. He wasn't going to sleep; he just wanted to bask in the stillness and the peace. It wasn't often he and his master got to enjoy such moments of tranquility.  
  
For the past year and a half, since Anakin had been returned to Obi-Wan, the two Jedi had seemed to have been on mission after mission, for not only were the resources of the Jedi Order being stretched to its limits, there was more unrest and strife in the Republic. As a result, the Jedi were being called upon more and more by the Senate, and Obi-Wan and Anakin were hard pressed to find anytime where they could just relax. Then the corner of Anakin's mouth quirked up. Well, going one on one with a _manasa_ wasn't exactly restful, but it had been exhilarating.  
  
Then he heard Obi-Wan and Nigal talking softly. At first their voices seemed to merge with the sounds of the forests that surrounded them; the soughing of the wind through the trees, the chirping and trilling of the night creatures who scuttled through the underbrush or settled in the branches of the trees, the sleepy voices of the Gowri as they drifted off to sleep. Anakin himself was dozing, but when he heard Nigal ask Obi-Wan something, although Anakin kept his eyes closed, he woke right up.  
  
"What troubles you, Bright Blade?"  
  
Bright Blade was the Gowri name for Obi-Wan. The name, as far as Anakin could discern, had been given to Obi-Wan long before he had ever known Anakin though, again, how or under what circumstances his master had acquired the name, he did not know. He heard Obi-Wan release a deep shuddering breath.  
  
"It is my heart," Obi-Wan said.  
  
"Ah," the Gowri chief said in his deep, gravely voice. "It is a female, is it not?"  
  
Anakin was tempted to open his eyes so that he could see Obi-Wan's expression, but decided not to. But, he did hear Obi-Wan laugh softly.  
  
"What makes you think that? I'm a Jedi Knight, remember."  
  
Nigal snorted. "We have had this conversation before, Bright Blade. I still do not understand how your Jedi tribe can survive without mating with females so that you can bring forth younglings."  
  
"And, as I told you before, we find children who are Force sensitive and bring them to the Temple to train."  
  
Anakin could almost hear Nigal shaking his hairy head. "Pah! Male and female are meant to be as one so that life will come forth. The gods we worship tell us this." Then Anakin heard a pounding, as if a fist were being struck against the ground.  
  
"The world is our Father, strong and eternal," Nigal intoned in a deep, solemn voice. "The sky is our Mother, protective and never-ending, holding all that lives in her arms, including our Father, the world. Our Mother lies atop our Father and brings forth life. That is the way it has always been and that is the way it will always be."  
  
"Yes, that is the Gowri way," Obi-Wan agreed. "But it is not the Jedi way."  
  
"Yet, if it is not the Jedi way," Nigal said, his voice wily, "why is your heart sad, Bright Blade?"  
  
Obi-Wan didn't answer at first, then Anakin listened as Obi-Wan told Nigal all that had happened two years ago; meeting Onara, the blessing ceremony they had participated in, the birth of his son, and his eventual parting from Ben and Onara. After Obi-Wan was finished, for a moment, there was only silence. Then Anakin heard Nigal.  
  
"That is very sad, Bright Blade. To have loved a female, have her bless you with a male youngling, then give her over to another, so that not only does he lie with your female, but raises your son. I do not think I could do this."  
  
Obi-Wan didn't reply to that. Again, Anakin was tempted to open his eyes and look at his master, but he didn't need to. He could sense the pain his master was feeling.  
  
"That is not all, Nigal," Obi-Wan finally said. "She has become a leader of her people. Soon she will go to live on the world that is my home."  
  
"Alone?" Nigal said.  
  
"I don't know. Perhaps."  
  
"And you would like to see her?"  
  
"More than that," Obi-Wan confessed, his voice tight.  
  
Nigal sighed. Anakin heard a stick being moved through the fire and it's subsequent flaring up.  
  
"What will you do?" the Gowri chief asked.  
  
"I will...avoid her. I will not go to her, though I long to."  
  
"Is that what you want, Bright Blade?"  
  
"It is what I must do," Obi-Wan replied, but Anakin heard the heaviness in his master's voice. "I have chosen my path, as she has chosen hers."  
  
"But you have a youngling together. That is a path that, as long as your son lives, you will always have to travel together."  
  
"Ben does not know that I am his father."  
  
Anakin heard Nigal sucking air through his teeth. "Oh, this I truly do not understand, Bright Blade. A youngling is a rare and precious gift."  
  
"Yes, they are," Obi-Wan agreed.  
  
Silence descended upon the Jedi and the Gowri. Then Anakin heard Nigal.  
  
"You must do what you think is right, Bright Blade. That is the gift, terrible as it is, that the gods give us. To choose our own paths, no matter where they might lead us."  
  
"It is the gift the Force gives us also," Obi-Wan said.  
  
"I have known you a long time, my friend. You and Swift Shadow will always be welcome here. You are part of the People. I wish there was more I could do to ease this pain in your heart, but---"  
  
"You listened," Obi-Wan said quickly. "And I thank you for that."  
  
Anakin, who was still lying against the cushions, his eyes closed, was beginning to feel guilty for having eavesdropped on his master's conversation with Nigal, thought it had hurt him to know Obi-Wan still yearned for Onara and Ben. Since his master had returned from his retreat on Bestine, he had not spoken of them once in Anakin's presence.  
  
He opened his eyes so that he could apologize for having listened in but, when he did, he was surprised to see Obi-Wan looking over at him, those startling blue-gray eyes gazing deep into his, and he knew that his master had known all along he'd been awake. Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment. Then he smiled, though his eyes remained sad.  
  
To be continued... 


	5. Part Five

Stars in the Darkness - Part Five  
  
--------------  
  
Onara, who was about to go down the stairs of the wide staircase that led to the vestibule of her manor, stopped and stared. The vestibule was filled with people. All the servants who worked about the manor were there; the cooks, the groundskeepers, the maids, all the household staff. Like her father, Onara had always insisted on hiring people to work at the manor. She knew it would have been cheaper to have purchased droids, and there were some on the estate, but she liked having people around her. Simtro, her major-domo, who had served her father faithfully for many years, stood in front of the crowd.  
  
Onara looked over at Dalan who was standing next to her, Ben in the crook of one of his arms, Sinja-Bau on the other side of him. Ben smiled and waved down at the servants, delighted, apparently, at seeing everyone he usually saw scattered about the manor gathered in one place. The servants either smiled or waved back to him. Then, Simtro bowed deeply, and the servants followed him.  
  
Eyes stinging, Onara swallowed heavily, her heart full. Then she felt Dalan take her hand. She looked over at him. He smiled. Onara returned his smile, then looked back at the servants who were still bowing to her. With her hand firmly in Dalan's, she walked down the stairs until she reached Simtro. He rose at her approach, the servants following him.  
  
"Senator Lenor," Simtro stated, and Onara could hear the pride in his voice as he proclaimed her new title. "I have been asked to speak for all gathered here to tell you how very proud we are of you, and that we wish you the blessing of the gods as you travel to Coruscant."  
  
Onara let go of Dalan's hand. She reached over and threw her arms about Simtro, hugging him tightly, the thick fabric of her traveling cloak crinkling as she did so.  
  
"Thank you, Simtro," Onara said, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you so much."  
  
She pulled away, the tears now streaming down her face. Then she looked around at all the servants.  
  
"Thank you all so very much," she said in a voice that rang through the vestibule. "It has been said that it was the work I and my husband put in over the past two years that has brought about this great day for Ahjane. But it is you, the people of Ahjane, who have helped to make this day a reality. We have shown the Republic, through our dedication, our hard work and our continued striving towards peace, that we are worthy of full membership in that august body. I can only hope and pray I will be able to continue the work we, the people of Ahjane, have begun."  
  
At the conclusion of Onara's words, the servants cheered and clapped, with cries and shouts of "You will, milady," and "The gods' blessing upon your head" swirling around her. Onara them moved among the crowd, shaking the hands of all the servants and wishing them well.  
  
"All right, all right," Simtro cried out after some moments had passed. "Senator Lenor has a starliner to catch."  
  
He began to quickly, but gently, shoo the servants back to their duties. Soon, only Onara, Dalan, Ben, Simtro, Sinja-Bau and Keria were left. Like Onara, Keria was dressed in a thick, velvet blue traveling cloak. At the last minute, Onara had decided to take the young servant girl with her, and Dalan and Sinja-Bau had agreed with her decision.  
  
Having gotten not only permission, but blessings from her parents, Keria had quickly packed. When Onara had given her the traveling cloak to wear, her eyes had lit up with both gratitude and wonder. Once they reached Coruscant, Onara decided, she would take the girl on a shopping spree and let her purchase some new clothes. She was, after all, going to be handmaiden to a Senator of the Republic. Though Onara wasn't terribly ostentatious herself, she knew enough about Coruscant to know that image was not everything, but it was important.  
  
Glancing over at Keria, who was hopping up and down on her toes gleefully, her young cheeks flushed, her blue eyes sparkling, Onara turned and looked over at Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi, without a word, took Onara in her arms and hugged her tightly.  
  
"Be well, little one."  
  
"I will, Sinja-Bau."  
  
"And remember, you are not, nor will you ever be alone."  
  
Onara nodded, her throat tight. She looked over at Ben, who was still in Dalan's arms. She watched, perplexed, as Ben tugged eagerly on the collar of Dalan's brown jacket, then whispered in his ear. Dalan smiled and, reaching under his arm, pulled a thin red folder from under it. He handed it to Ben, then put him on the floor. Ben walked over to his mother. Onara sank to her knees, the wide skirt of her sapphire-blue skirt pooling around her.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Yes, darling?"  
  
Ben handed her the folder. "Can you give this to Obi-Wan?"  
  
Onara, whose expression did not change one whit, felt her heart slamming inside her chest at Ben's words. She looked quickly up at Dalan and Sinja- Bau. Her husband smiled warmly at her and Ben, but Onara saw something in Sinja-Bau's eyes that, for a moment, looked like apprehension. Willing her heart to slow to a normal rate, Onara took the folder in her gloved hands.  
  
"What is it, dear?" she asked Ben.  
  
"A present. Promise me you'll give it to Obi-Wan, Mama."  
  
Onara swallowed and opened the red folder. Inside was one of Ben's drawings. Done in the crude, but endearing style of children everywhere, it showed two figures. One was small and had black hair. Onara recognized it as Ben's depiction of himself. Standing next to Ben was a large figure, almost gigantic in proportion to the smaller one. It was holding what Onara assumed was a lightsaber. Ben leaned over and pointed to the smaller figure on the paper.  
  
"That's me, Mama." He moved his finger and pointed to the larger figure. "And that's Obi-Wan."  
  
Underneath the two figures, Ben had scrawled in bright red, for he was just learning how to write his letters: _For Obi-Wan, Jedii Knite. my Hero. From yur good freind Ben_.  
  
"Oh, darling, it's lovely," Onara said, trying not to let the feelings which were threatening to overwhelm her spill over into her voice.  
  
"Do you think he will like it, Mama?" Ben asked, his blue-gray eyes anxious as he looked over at her.  
  
"Oh, yes, darling," she exclaimed, giving him a big hug. "He'll think it's quite grand."  
  
Onara pulled away from the hug. Ben's face broke into a wide smile. He looked over at Dalan. "Papa helped me." He turned back to Onara. "Tell Obi- Wan Papa helped me."  
  
"I will," Onara whispered as she placed the drawing carefully back into the folder. She handed it to Keria and the girl slipped it into a traveling handbag slung over her shoulder.  
  
"Now kiss Mama goodbye," Onara said to Ben.  
  
He threw his little arms around her and hugged her tightly.  
  
"Bye-bye, Senator Mama," he whispered in her ear.  
  
At his words, Onara burst into tears, too overwhelmed by her emotions to hold them in check anymore.  
  
"Don't cry, Mama," Ben said, his warm cheek pressed against hers, his hand patting her back. "Please, don't cry."  
  
"I'm sorry, darling," Onara sniffed as she pulled back and wiped at her eyes. She then took Ben by the shoulders and squeezed them. He gazed back at her, his beautiful eyes wide and glistening.  
  
"Can Jedi Knights cry, Mama?" he asked, and she heard the tears in his voice.  
  
"Yes, darling. They can and they do. Never be afraid to cry. It shows you have a heart."  
  
Ben nodded, then Onara watched, her heart breaking as the tears flowed down his little face. She pulled him to her again and held him tightly, not wanting to ever let him go. But then she heard Sinja-Bau's voice.  
  
"Onara, your starliner will be leaving shortly."  
  
"I know, I know," she said quickly.  
  
She hugged Ben one more time, then slowly let him go. She took out a handkerchief from the pocket of her cloak and wiped at Ben's cheek, then kissed each one.  
  
"Now, be a brave little Jedi for Mama, all right? I'll see you soon. And think of all the wonderful things we'll do once you come to Coruscant."  
  
Ben nodded sorrowfully. Sinja-Bau came up behind him and, bending down, picked him up.  
  
"Come, Ben, it's time for your lessons."  
  
"Bye, Mama," Ben said, trying to smile through his tears, waving to her as Sinja-Bau took him up the stairs. "Don't forget to give Obi-Wan the picture."  
  
"I won't, darling. And I'll see you soon. Remember, Mama loves you."  
  
Onara's eyes followed Ben and Sinja-Bau as they went up the stairs, then turned and disappeared down the hallway. As much as she hated seeing Ben go, she was grateful Sinja-Bau had taken him away, for Onara could not, she believed, have found the courage or the will to leave him herself.  
  
Simtro, who had been standing quietly to the side, gestured to Keria. The young girl, tears streaming down her face at Onara and Ben's goodbye, followed the major-domo through the door and outside to where a vehicle, packed with all her and Onara's belongings, was waiting to take them to the starport. Onara and Dalan were now alone.  
  
"I hope you don't mind about the picture, Onara," Dalan said, his dark blue eyes worried behind their silver spectacles. "Ben was quite insistent on drawing it."  
  
"No, it's fine. It's very sweet." Then Onara bit her lip and looked up at Dalan from under her lashes. "What about you?"  
  
Dalan smiled. He reached over and put his hands on her shoulders. "I know how much Ben worships Obi-Wan."  
  
Onara frowned slightly. She noted Dalan had not answered her question as to how he felt about Ben's adoration of Obi-Wan, but she was very much aware time was passing and she and Keria had to leave. Dalan, noticing her frown, bent down and pressed his lips against her forehead.  
  
"You haven't even experienced your first session of the Senate and you're scowling already," he teased her.  
  
Onara smoothed out her face. Dalan, taking her gently by the chin, leaned down and kissed her. Onara closed her eyes and, as she had sworn to Sinja- Bau last night, focused all her thoughts on Dalan, his soft lips on hers, his warm breath moving across her mouth. Then, hesitating only a moment, she slipped her arms up and around his neck and returned his kiss, telling herself this man was her husband and he deserved to be treated as one. They kissed for a long moment, then Dalan released her. He smiled down at her, his indigo eyes warm.  
  
"I'm not so sure I want you to leave after a kiss like that," he said, holding her close.  
  
"But you must," Onara said and she smiled, easing herself out of his arms. "If I don't make this flight, there won't be another to Coruscant for a month. I'll miss the opening session of the Senate and that would hardly be an auspicious beginning for Ahjane, now would it?"  
  
"No," he agreed, smiling. "It would not."  
  
He took her by the arm and led her outside to the vehicle where Simtro waited to take her and Keria to the starport.  
  
"Be well, Onara," Dalan said softly. "And don't worry about Ben. Sinja-Bau and I will look after him. Once you're settled, we'll bring him to you."  
  
"Thank you," Onara said, raising up and kissing Dalan quickly on the cheek. "And you be well, my husband."  
  
Dalan's dark brows lifted at her words, for she had never addressed him that way in their two years of marriage. Onara turned and got into the vehicle and, as Simtro drove away from the estate, inside she was a tumult of emotions. Sorrow at leaving her home and her family and those she loved; excitement regarding the new life she was about to begin. She glanced over at Keria, who was sitting next to her in the back seat of the vehicle, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Onara reached and took the girl's hands, gripping them gently.  
  
"Are you all right, Keria?"  
  
"Oh, yes, milady. I'm fine," the young blonde said, her eyes glistening with both tears and excitement. "I will miss my family. but they know that not only is this a great honor, but a great opportunity for me."  
  
Onara smiled and patted her hand. Yes, she was very glad she had decided to bring Keria along. Now, perhaps, she wouldn't feel so terribly lonely. Her gaze moved down to the traveling handbag that lay at Keria's feet, and she thought of Ben's drawing and the promise she had made to give it to Obi- Wan.  
  
She sighed heavily. Perhaps, she thought, as the vehicle sped to the starport, she could have it delivered to the Jedi Temple. That way she could honor her promise to Ben, but keep the vow she had sworn to Sinja-Bau last night; to stay as far away from Obi-Wan as possible.  
  
---------  
  
Padmé Amidala Naberrie, formerly the Queen of Naboo, now Senator for her homeworld for just over a year, stood in the lift next to her handmaiden Dormé. Her other two handmaidens, Cordé and Versé, were back at her apartment. Padmé had not wanted an entourage accompanying her on this visit. As the lift moved smoothly up the side of the skyscraper, she tried her best to quell the excitement within her, but it was difficult.  
  
When Padmé first heard Onara Lenor had been elected as the freshman Senator for the system of Ahjane, she had filed it away in her mind with all the other sundry information she kept there regarding the Senate and its members. But, when she learned that not only was Onara just a few years younger than she but, at the age of twenty, had a two-year old son and a husband, Padmé knew she had to meet the young woman. First, because there weren't many Senators who were close to her own age and second, she was curious to see how Onara was able to juggle both a political career and a family. When the lift finally stopped, Padmé smoothed out the front of her emerald-green dress. She glanced over at Cordé who was smiling at her.  
  
"I'm eager to meet her too," her handmaiden said with a wide smile.  
  
Padmé returned her smile, but before she could say more, the doors of the lift opened. A young blonde girl with bright blue eyes stood in front of them. She was wearing a simple, but elegant sapphire-colored dress that matched her eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled up in an elegant hairdo and tiny blue diamonds glittered in her shapely ears. At the sight of Padmé and Dormé she curtsied deeply.  
  
"Senator Amidala," she said with just a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Welcome. My name is Keria. I am Senator Lenor's handmaiden."  
  
"Thank you, Keria. This is Dormé."  
  
"A pleasure to meet you, Keria," Dormé replied.  
  
Keria smiled shyly at her. Then, remembering her manners, she gestured for the two women to enter. As Padmé moved further into the penthouse, she noted it resembled hers. The same basic design, but the color scheme was different and there were boxes, both opened and unopened, scattered about the spacious common room. Keria, noting Padmé's gaze, quickly apologized.  
  
"The Senator has been so busy hiring staff and moving into her office at the Senate, we're still trying to get things under control here."  
  
Padmé smiled gently. "There's no need to apologize, Keria."  
  
Keria directed Padmé and Dormé over to a long, cream-colored couch. Just as they were about to sit down, a woman came out of one of the back bedrooms. She wore a short-waist, rose-colored jacket, fitted close about her slim hips and a bell-shaped, matching skirt whose hem swept over the floor as she walked over to them.  
  
As she came closer, for a moment, Padmé thought she was looking at one of her handmaidens. Onara had the same coloring, the dark eyes and hair and slender build, but there was both a sadness and a vulnerability about her large eyes Padmé had never seen in the faces of any of her handmaidens.  
  
"Senator Amidala," Onara said warmly as she walked over, the melancholy Padmé had observed fading away from her eyes. She took Padmé's hands and squeezed them.  
  
"Senator Lenor," Padmé replied.  
  
Onara laughed and Padmé found herself both startled and delighted by the sound, for it was a rich, deep laugh, almost sensuous in the depth of its joy.  
  
"Oh, I do hope we're not going to continue being so formal with each other," Onara said, her dark eyes sparkling. "I've longed so much to meet you, and I've had enough this past week of trying to maintain my senatorial dignity. Please, call me Onara."  
  
"Only if you promise to call me Padmé."  
  
"Agreed," Onara replied gladly as she and Padmé sat on the couch. Dormé was quickly introduced to Onara.  
  
"Milady," Keria said in her sweet, high voice. "Should I...I mean, shall I bring in some tea?"  
  
"Yes, please, Keria. Thank you."  
  
Keria curtsied again and left the common area. Padmé watched her leave.  
  
"She's very sweet," she said.  
  
Onara nodded, a fond look on her face as the girl went into the kitchen. "I'm so glad I decided to bring her with me. At first I was going to come alone. But, I'm glad I did not. Keria has been both my joy and my rock. She's so very excited about being here on Coruscant, though I'm afraid we haven't had much time to sightsee. We've been so busy this past week."  
  
Padmé nodded. "Even though I've been a Senator for just over a year, coming back to Coruscant for the new session is always a stressful time."  
  
Keria reentered the room with a tray of tea. After serving everyone, she sat on the couch next to Dormé. For the next half hour, the two young Senators talked pleasantly about their experiences on Coruscant. Padmé was impressed with the questions Onara asked, not only about Coruscant, but about the Senate. She noted approvingly that Onara seemed to be up to speed on what was currently happening in the Senate, particularly as it related to the Military Creation Act. Although debate on the Act had been tabled for the time being, it was still the topic of the moment in the corridors and offices of the Senate.  
  
At the mention of the Act, Padmé listened carefully to Onara. Although she seemed to be in favor of the Senate not authorizing the creation of an army for the Republic, Padmé detected something in her words that indicated she was not totally adverse to the idea either. However, their conversation soon shifted away from political matters.  
  
It was during their discussion regarding places Onara and Keria could visit once they found the time to sightsee that the subject of Onara's family finally came up. Padmé had been dying to ask her about her husband and child, but had not wanted to appear to be prying. It was Keria who opened the way.  
  
"Oh, milady," she cried, "when Ben comes to Coruscant, we'll have to take him there!"  
  
Keria was referring to Padmé's suggestion they visit the Holographic Zoo of Extinct Animals.  
  
"Ben? Is that your son?" Padmé asked politely.  
  
A look of pure and unabashed joy bloomed in Onara's lovely face.  
  
"Yes," she answered, smiling widely. "He adores animals. Actually, he got his first pet just recently."  
  
"Really. What is it?"  
  
"A voorpak. Its name is..." Onara hesitated, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Its name is Obi-Wan.  
  
Padmé and Dormé burst out laughing. Onara and Keria exchanged puzzled glances.  
  
"I'm sorry, Onara," Padmé said, reaching over to pat her hand. "Please forgive us. It's just that Dormé and I both know Master Kenobi and the last thing he resembles is a voorpak. Although," and Padmé's eyes danced, "I've heard he's grown a beard..." and the two started laughing again.  
  
"You know Obi...I mean, Master Kenobi?" Onara asked.  
  
Padmé wiped at some tears that had slipped from her eyes while she had laughed.  
  
"Yes. He and his master aided my people when my homeworld was occupied by the Trade Federation."  
  
"Oh, I see," Onara said. "Have you...seen him lately?"  
  
Padmé shook her head, but she was still smiling. "But I will never forget what he and Master Qui-Gon did for us."  
  
"Master Kenobi helped my people also," Onara said, her voice, Padmé noting, trembling slightly. "About three years ago he negotiated a treaty between my province and one we had been at war with for many years."  
  
Padmé nodded. "I've heard he's become quite the accomplished Jedi Knight."  
  
"And don't forget that very handsome apprentice of his," Keria blurted out. Then, realizing, she had interrupted a conversation between two Senators, blushed and dropped her eyes.  
  
"Ani?" Padme said in a skeptical voice, frowning. "Well, I thought he was rather cute, but handsome?"  
  
"Milady," Dormé reminded her gently. "Anakin was only nine when we last saw him. He's a young man now." She looked over at Keria and gave her a reassuring smile. "And I'm sure Keria is right and he has grown up to be a very handsome young man."  
  
Keria smiled gratefully back at Dormé. Padmé mentally shrugged. She wasn't interested in discussing Anakin Skywalker. She looked back at Onara.  
  
"Will your son be joining you on Coruscant?"  
  
"Yes. Soon, I hope. Dalan and I thought it best I get settled in before he came."  
  
"Dalan is your husband?"  
  
Onara nodded. "Would you like to see a picture of them?"  
  
Finally, Padmé thought happily. "Yes, very much so."  
  
"I'll get it, milady," Keria piped up, apparently eager to make amends for her earlier faux pas.  
  
She nearly ran from the room and returned quickly with a large, gold-framed picture which she handed to Padmé. It was a 2-D portrait and showed Onara sitting in a chair, dressed in a black and white gown. A tall, black haired man in a somber, but elegant suit, with thoughtful deep blue eyes behind his silver spectacles, stood behind her, one hand resting on her shoulder. A dark-haired toddler sat on Onara's lap. She smiled as she pointed at the boy.  
  
"That's my son, Ben," she said.  
  
Padmé's heart turned over. Ben was the most attractive child she had ever seen. She could clearly see Onara's beauty in the shape of his face and his mouth. His eyes, however, seemed familiar to her. They were the most startling color; not blue, not gray, not green, but a wondrous mixture of all three. Ben had a wide smile on his face as he sat on his mother's lap, and Padmé could see he was a bright and happy child.  
  
"He's beautiful, Onara," Padmé said warmly.  
  
"Thank you. He's quite the handful, but I don't think any mother has been blessed with a more loving or happy child."  
  
"You're very lucky," Padmé said as she handed the picture back to Onara. "You have a lovely family."  
  
Onara gazed down at the picture. Padmé was surprised to see that gentle melancholy stealing back into her dark eyes.  
  
"Yes," she said in a low, distant voice. "I do."  
  
For a moment, the four women fell silent and it felt to Padmé as if a cloud had descended over the room.  
  
"Milady," Padmé then heard Dormé say. "Don't forget the invitation."  
  
"Oh, yes," she said quickly. "I had almost forgotten. Thank you for reminding me, Dormé"  
  
Onara had looked up from her quiet contemplation of the picture at Dormé's words. Padmé reached over and took her hand.  
  
"Do you have anything planned this evening?"  
  
Onara shook her head. "No, I was going to read some of the reports from the last session of the Senate and---"  
  
Padmé fiercely shook her head and gripped her hand. "No, you are most certainly not! You, my dear, are going to a party."  
  
"A party?" Onara gasped. "But...I don't know anyone here. I've only met my staff."  
  
"More the reason you need to get out. One thing you will learn, Onara," Padmé said in a no-nonsense voice, "is that over half the business of the Senate takes place outside the Chamber. I'm not much of a party-hopper myself, but you will need to get out occasionally to find out who the real movers and shakers are."  
  
Padmé watched as Onara glanced over at Keria. It was clear the young blonde was up for the idea, but Onara looked skeptical.  
  
"I'm going to be there, if that will make you feel any better," Padmé said, squeezing her hand to reassure her.  
  
"Well, I suppose it will be all right," Onara ventured softly. "It is the day before the week's end."  
  
"That's right," Padmé said vibrantly. "You can get back to Senate business bright and early at the beginning of the next week."  
  
"All right, I'll go," Onara said smiling. Keria nearly squealed with delight and both Padmé and Dormé smiled at her.  
  
"Good. Now, the party is at 1900. I'll stop by at 1830 and pick you both up."  
  
Padmé glanced at her wristchrono and gasped. She quickly stood and Onara followed her, along with Dormé and Keria.  
  
"I hate to just run," Padmé said quickly, "but I've been having such a lovely time here, I'd forgotten I have some things to do before the party. Thank you so much for inviting us, Onara. We'll talk more later."  
  
Padmé turned, Dormé next to her, and was making her way swiftly towards the lift, when she heard Onara call after her.  
  
"Padmé?"  
  
She turned back to Onara. "Yes?"  
  
"But, what kind of a party is it? What should I wear? Who's giving it?"  
  
Padmé grinned. "It's a cocktail party, wear something elegant, but understated, and Senator Elester Rhygdon is giving it, but don't worry. Anything you may have heard about her is perfectly true, but her bark is worse than her bite. See you at 1830," she cried, waving, as she and Dormé entered the lift.  
  
----------------  
  
"I will not go, Anakin."  
  
"Please, Master," Anakin cried, his blue eyes imploring. "You have to go."  
  
"I do not have to go and I will not."  
  
Obi-Wan crossed his arms across his chest and glowered back at his apprentice. For the past hour, Anakin had been trying to convince him to accept Senator Rhygdon's invitation to attend her party tonight. He and Anakin were in his quarters at the Temple. Having returned to Coruscant from Raggan just days ago, the last thing Obi-Wan wanted was to spend any more time in the company of Senator Rhygdon.  
  
"Master, I know you weren't happy about what happened at the press conference on her homeworld."  
  
"Wasn't happy, Padawan? That's an understatement. The woman is a monster and, I might add, an unfit mother."  
  
Anakin shook his head at Obi-Wan. "Master," he said in a disappointed voice. "I thought it was you who said we must not make judgments about people based on only one experience. Perhaps the Senator was still suffering from stress as a result of the kidnapping and it affected her judgment."  
  
Obi-Wan scoffed. He moved past Anakin and over to his favorite reading chair. He sat in it and, reaching over, pulled a book from out of a shelf next to it. He settled himself comfortably on the chair, crossed his boots at the ankle and opened the book. Anakin walked over to the chair, his jaw dropping.  
  
"No, Master!" he cried. "You're not serious! You're not going to read, are you? It's the night before the week's end."  
  
"Yes, I am, Anakin. You and I have spent the last twelve months traveling from one system to another and I am exhausted. The Council has given us some time off, and I intend to make good use of it."  
  
"By reading!" Anakin cried in a shocked voice. He moved closer. "Master, look, I know how you feel about politicians. But, from what I heard, there are going to be people besides politicians at the party. Why, there's even a rumor Illora Vantana herself might be there."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed heavily. That would explain Anakin's burning desire to attend the party. Illora Vantana was one of the most popular holostars in the galaxy. Her holomovies made trillions of credits and were seen from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim.  
  
"Anakin, you have no idea who's going to be at the party, do you?" he asked as he paged through the book, trying to find where he'd left off over a year ago.  
  
"Well, no, Master, I don't know who's going to be there, but I'm sure there will be some tunestars, at least, a few captains of industry, maybe even some of those professorial types you like to talk to."  
  
Obi-Wan only moved the book up higher so he could no longer see Anakin's beseeching face. But that, apparently, was not going to deter his Padawan. He just kept talking.  
  
"Now, I grant you, Senator Rhygdon is definitely a bottom-feeder," Obi-Wan heard Anakin say from behind the book, "but she's invited us because she wants to honor us for having saved her daughter."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head firmly, his gaze fastened on the page of the book. "She _honored_ us enough on Nida, Padawan."  
  
Anakin reached over and gently, but insistently, pushed the book down from Obi-Wan's face. "Master Yoda gave us permission to attend. And it will be good for the Order. And, the ancients know, we certainly need all the good press we can get."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed and closed his book. Anakin was right. In recent years, although the Jedi were still revered by the majority of citizens on Coruscant and the Core Worlds, because the resources of the Order were becoming severely strained, the Jedi were often not able to respond to the cries for assistance that were coming, with increasing frequency, from the Mid and Outer Rim worlds.  
  
As a result, there was a small, but growing, disenchantment with the Jedi Order in some sectors of the Republic. There was even something called the People's Inquest, a citizens' Jedi watch group that was growing in popularity. More than likely Senator Rhygdon's party would be covered on the HoloNet News, though Obi-Wan still didn't relish serving as some kind of poster Jedi for the Order.  
  
"All right, Anakin, I'll go. But, I'm not going to mingle, hob-nob or work the room. And we're leaving at exactly 2000."  
  
Anakin rose from his chair and grinned. He made his way to the door, calling out behind him as it opened and he stepped through it. "Sounds great, Master. Just as long as you don't stand in a corner, giving everyone there one of your infamous Jedi masterly frowns, I'll be happy."  
  
Obi-Wan only grunted in response. He put the book back on its shelf and went into his bedroom to find something to wear to what he knew was nothing more than a shameless, self-serving exhibition by Senator Rhygdon of him and his Padawan. He was going to have a perfectly awful time.  
  
To be continued... 


	6. Part Six

Stars in the Darkness - Part Six  
  
---------------  
  
As the noise and clamor from the hundreds of beings in the large ballroom of the Crystal Pavilion rose and swelled, along with the competing sounds of the two bands on either side of the cavernous room; one a jizz quarter of Bithian musicians, the other, the ear-blasting, floor-pounding rhythms of the popular tune-band known as _OtherSpace_, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, was not only mingling, hob-nobbing and working the room, he was actually having a good time doing so. Anakin had been right. Senator Rhygdon might be a bottom-feeder, as his Padawan had so aptly dubbed her, but the Senator knew or had contact with a fascinating array of Coruscant society.  
  
Since his and Anakin's arrival at the party, Obi-Wan had been introduced to and chatted with Konan Izzat, recent winner of the Prixi Golden Quill, the galaxy's most prestigious award for literary excellence; the blind sculptress A'sade Olashae, whose stunning works were even displayed in the Jedi Temple; Meeko and Leeko, legendary acrobats from the Circus Maximus, who, although joined at the hip, performed the most exciting and death- defying stunts; former Chancellor of the Republic, Finis Valorum; Septo, the celebrated lunge-ball star; San Hill, Chairman of the InterGalactic Banking Clan and, of course, Illora Vantana, holostar extraordinaire.  
  
The legendary beauty, with her lush figure, flaming-red hair and emerald- green eyes, upon being introduced to Obi-Wan, had even slipped her soft, warm arm through his and whispered perfumed words in his ears that still made his cheeks warm to think of them. However, he had been rescued from her salacious, and most unsolicited, attentions by the arrival at the party, fashionably late, of course, of Dyslogia Twang.  
  
The corpulent alien, dressed in voluminous robes of garish pink and purple, was the social correspondent for the Holonet News. It made him one of the most powerful beings on Coruscant, at least as it related to social status. He could make or break anyone's reputation based solely upon what he reported in his _Sightings by Twang_. Illora, upon seeing Twang enter the room, surrounded by a coterie of sycophants, had quickly let go of Obi- Wan's arm and rushed over to Twang. The two quickly exchanged air kisses and Obi-Wan, thankfully, was forgotten.  
  
That did not, however, stop the attention he received from other women at the party. Obi-Wan could not understand why he was the recipient of so much consideration. He thought he had dressed rather plainly. Underneath a black, velvet, knee-length waistcoat lined with pearl-gray satin and edged with silver buttons, he wore a white, open-necked shirt tucked into a pair of dove-gray breeches. A thin black belt circled his waist, upon which he wore his lightsaber. He also wore black-leather boots and had brought along, but had left in the coat room of the Pavilion, a long ebony cloak.  
  
He had purchased the outfit a few years ago to wear to a coronation, and had thought it appropriate enough for the party. The inhabitants of the planet the coronation had been held on had told him that the light wheat and cream colors of his regular Jedi apparel were only appropriate for funerals.  
  
Yet, in spite of what Obi-Wan considered the plainness of his attire in sharp contrast to the opulent, expensive and more colorfully exotic outfits of the beings around him, he found himself constantly, but politely, brushing off the attentions of quite a few women at the party, both young and old, slender and plump and, in some cases, married, as evidenced when their angry husbands would finally find them and drag them away, with a baleful glance at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Keep that up, Obi-Wan, and you'll start a diplomatic incident," a deep voice said next to him as a Twi'lekian businessman dragged his winsome, orange-skinned wife away from Obi-Wan.  
  
Turning, Obi-Wan was about to protest his innocence in the whole matter, when he saw who it was. A wide smile spread across his face as he grabbed the man's arm and shook it.  
  
"Bail," he cried. "It's good to see you."  
  
"Good to see you too, Obi-Wan," Bail Organa said in turn.  
  
The tall, dark-haired viceroy from Alderaan was one of the few politicians Obi-Wan truly and deeply respected. As Viceroy and First Chairman of Alderaan, Bail also had a seat in the Imperial Senate. A man of great integrity, compassion and vision, Obi-Wan had often thought if all the members of the Senate were like Organa, things would not be as dire as they were in the Republic.  
  
"Though I am surprised to see you here," Bail went on, a mischievous light in his dark eyes. "Where's your apprentice?"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I lost track of him half an hour ago. The last time I saw him he was in the midst of a cluster of the sons, daughters, and scions of the rich and infamous. But he's here somewhere. As for Senator Rhygdon, you know how I feel about her, Bail. It's no secret, but I thought it best to accept her invitation for the sake of the Order. PR and all that, you know."  
  
Bail nodded, but he smiled at Obi-Wan's weak attempt to justify his presence. "That was a good thing you and your apprentice did, rescuing her little girl from the dissidents."  
  
"I think, perhaps, she might have been better off with them."  
  
"You don't mean that, Obi-Wan. I know Elester is never going to win Mother of the Year, but she took Jadis' death pretty hard. Losing someone you love..." Bail stop and shook his head. "It's not an easy thing. I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if I lost Mariae."  
  
Mariae Organa was Bail's wife. She was also Alderaan's Minister of Education and preferred to live on Alderaan as she found Coruscant too gray and sterile.  
  
Obi-Wan sighed. "I understand, Bail, but Senator Rhygdon has a child. A very lovely little girl. If only she knew how lucky she was to have that opportunity. To be with your child, to watch him grow up, to tuck him in at night..."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped, noting Bail peering closely at him.  
  
"A child is a wondrous gift," Bail agreed, his dark eyes gazing thoughtfully at Obi-Wan. "Unfortunately, Mariae and I have not been so blessed but, perhaps, someday."  
  
Obi-Wan gripped Bail's arm. "Don't give up hope. You and Mariae are still young."  
  
Bail smiled. "Thank you, Obi-Wan." Then he grinned and slapped his hands together. "So, what other beauties have you notched on your lightsaber this evening?" he asked in a jocular, teasing voice. He looked around. "There's quite the garden variety here."  
  
Obi-Wan also looked around. He shrugged slightly. There were many beautiful women here, all of them dressed like the glittering, dazzling creatures of fashion and society they either were or longed to be.  
  
"I'm a Jedi," Obi-Wan said. "Such things---"  
  
"Have no interest for you," Bail finished. "Yes, yes, I know. Only teasing, Obi-Wan. But, considering the attention you've garnered tonight, it's probably best the Jedi as a rule practice celibacy, or you'd be one exhausted man come morning."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled, shaking his head as Bail chuckled next to him. Then, in concert with Bail's laughter, Obi-Wan heard someone else laughing. It was a woman, and her rich, warm laughter brought to his mind, as swiftly and as sharply as a dagger in his heart, the memory of a beautiful young woman with dark, sparkling eyes and thick, black hair spilling down her bare, slender back, a whirlwind of green and gold flower petals swirling around her.  
  
Finding it almost difficult to breathe, for it suddenly occurred to him who the woman was, Obi-Wan searched, both with excitement and trepidation, through the crowd for the source of that joyous laughter.  
  
---------  
  
Onara laughed as the Associate Planetary Representative of Naboo finally delivered the punch line of his joke.  
  
"Dead? Mesa didn't even know it was sick!"  
  
She laughed again as Representative Binks grinned back at her, his large orange earflaps draped along the epaulettes Padmé had told Onara signified Jar Jar's service in the military during the Naboo Occupation ten years ago. Although Keria had soon tired of Jar Jar's seemingly endless recitation of jokes and wandered off, Onara had enjoyed every one of them, for she had never met a creature quite like the Gungan. Tall and gangly, even in his stately robes of office, he possessed a childlike desire to please she found endearing. And she couldn't help thinking how much Ben would enjoy him.  
  
"Yousa really thought it was funny, Senator Lenor?" Jar Jar asked.  
  
"Yes, it was, Jar Jar. Quite funny."  
  
"Isa have lots more if yousa wants to hear---"  
  
"Jar Jar," Onara heard a voice say from behind her. "Would you be so kind as to get me a glass of punch?"  
  
"Oh, yesa, milady, right away," Jar Jar said to Padmé.  
  
He turned, making his way through the crowd and over to the tables alongside the wall where refreshments were being served, narrowly missing knocking a glass from a young woman's hand as he passed her. Padmé smiled as she watched him leave. She turned to Onara.  
  
"I had to save you, Onara. Having finally found someone who was not only willing to listen to his jokes, but actually thought they were funny, he would have monopolized you all night."  
  
Onara smiled. "Thank you, Padmé. But I really was enjoying myself."  
  
Padmé, her dark eyes anxious, reached over and took her arm. "Are you sure you're not feeling overwhelmed? I truly thought Elester was giving an intimate, little party. I had no idea she had this...this four-ring circus planned."  
  
Onara shook her head. "I'm fine, Padmé. Really. I've met so many interesting people and it's all so dazzling and exciting and..."  
  
Her voice fell away as her heart began beating so hard she thought it would burst from her chest. Padme, who had been smiling at her enthusiasm regarding the party, frowned when she saw the look on Onara's face.  
  
"Onara, dear. Are you all right?"  
  
But Onara couldn't answer. She was suddenly bereft of both voice and thought as a man in a black, velvet waistcoat, his lightsaber catching the light from where it hung from his belt, walked out of the crowd. His red- gold hair was still streaked with white along the temple, and those eyes; those eloquently, beautiful eyes that had haunted Onara's dreams for the past two years, those eyes, which had looked back at her from the cherubic face of her only child, those incredible, beloved eyes, which now caught and held hers, were all she was conscious of as he made his way through the crowd towards her.  
  
"Onara," she heard Padmé call again, but it was as if her voice were coming from a great distance, because all the music, all the voices, all the clamor of the crowd had dimmed and all Onara heard was the frantic pounding of her heart and the blood rushing through her veins like a swollen river.  
  
Obi-Wan's expression, as he drew closer to her, was a mixture of surprise, happiness and, Onara was pained to see, anguish, and she wondered if her expression was the same because, at that moment, all she wanted to do was turn and run away, and a voice inside shouted for her to do just that, warning her that if she stayed, if she allowed herself to be near him, nothing but sorrow and grief would come of it. But Onara did not move, she could not move. She waited for him and he came. However, just as he drew near, a woman with owlish blue eyes and a long face, dressed in a gaudy, elaborate gown, intercepted him.  
  
"There you are, Master Kenobi," Senator Elester Rhygdon said tetchily. "I've been looking everywhere for you."  
  
A flash of annoyance swept across Obi-Wan's face, but he quickly smoothed it out. He looked over at Senator Rhygdon, bowing his head, but his eyes kept returning to Onara.  
  
"I want to introduce you and your apprentice to my guests," Elester went on. "Everyone's been asking about you two, the gallant rescuers of my daughter." Elester stopped when she saw Obi-Wan was looking over at Onara where she stood next to Padmé.  
  
"Oh, yes," she noted, one heavy, dark brow arching. "I do believe you are acquainted with our newest senator, Onara Lenor from Ahjane."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at Onara and her heart sang.  
  
"Yes, I know Senator Lenor," Obi-Wan replied. "I met her some years---"  
  
"Good," Elester snapped, interrupting him. "I'll introduce her along with you. Now, come, both of you," she said briskly as she took Onara's and Obi- Wan's arm. "We'll find that apprentice of yours along the way."  
  
As she disappeared into the crowd with them, Bail Organa moved up next to Padmé.  
  
"What was that all about?" he asked her.  
  
She looked up at the Viceroy. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I was talking to Obi-Wan and, then, suddenly, excusing himself, he just ran off."  
  
Padmé shrugged. "I don't know. He was heading this way, but Elester grabbed both him and Onara so she could introduce them to her guests."  
  
Bail shook his head. "If only she knew how much Obi-Wan loathes her."  
  
Padmé laughed. "She wouldn't care if she did know. You know that, Bail."  
  
He laughed with her. Just then Jar Jar returned with the punch. He handed it to Padmé after saying hello to Bail. Padmé sipped at the punch as Bail offered her his arm.  
  
"Shall we go watch the introductions?"  
  
Padmé took his arm and walked with him and Jar Jar towards the stage upon which the Bith jizz quarter was playing. Senator Rhygdon had pulled Obi-Wan and Onara onto the stage, gesturing angrily for the quartet to stop playing.  
  
"Everyone, everyone, your attention please," she cried out, clapping her hands.  
  
The room slowly quieted as the crowd turned towards her. Two hovering holocams, recording the festivities for broadcast on the HoloNet News, swooped towards the stage.  
  
"I would like to introduce to you the Jedi Knight responsible for rescuing my little Joyna from those despicable, contemptible kidnappers. Obi-Wan Kenobi."  
  
The crowd erupted into applause. Onara, who was still quite shocked to find she had been dragged upon a stage and was now standing before hundreds of strangers, glanced over at Obi-Wan who was on the other side of Senator Rhygdon. He gazed out at the crowd as they continued to clap, inclining his head stoically in acceptance of their applause. Following that, he looked over at Onara and gave her a warm smile. Onara, her thoughts spinning, returned his smile. Then she heard Elester's strident voice.  
  
"Where is Anakin Skywalker?" she shouted.  
  
"Here, Madam Senator," a voice Onara recognized cried out from the crowd.  
  
It was all she could do to keep from laughing as Anakin, smoothing his hair and running his hands quickly down the front of his dark blue jacket, deftly made his way through the crowd like a young colt through an obstacle course. His bright blue eyes widened when he saw Onara as he ran up on the stage. He grinned at her but, before he could say a word, Elester gestured at him.  
  
"Master Kenobi's apprentice," she cried out, "who also helped rescue my little Joyna. Anakin Skywalker."  
  
The crowd clapped again, but this time there were also whistles and shouts along with the applause. Onara saw that a small crowd of richly-dressed young people, males and females, humans and aliens, had pushed themselves towards the front of the stage and were cheering Anakin. He smiled and bowed to them.  
  
Elester turned to Onara. "I would also like to introduce to you the newest member of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, Senator Onara Lenor from the sovereign system of Ahjane."  
  
Onara curtsied deeply as the crowd applauded her. She heard Anakin cheering. She blushed and looked over at Obi-Wan. He was clapping with great enthusiasm and the look in his eyes as he gazed at her almost made her swoon. She actually stumbled a bit as she rose from her curtsey.  
  
The holocams swirled around the stage as Elester posed with her, Anakin and Obi-Wan. Once that was done, the Senator thanked them, ordered the jizz quartet to continue and abruptly left the stage. Anakin turned to Onara, a wide smile on his face.  
  
"Wow, Onara, I mean, Senator Lenor," he said quickly as the jizz band staring playing behind them. "I didn't know you were here," he shouted to be heard above the music. "How are you? You look really beautiful in that dress. Is Ben with you? How is he? I bet he's really grown."  
  
"Anakin."  
  
Anakin turned and looked at Obi-Wan who was gesturing towards the floor.  
  
"I think we could all talk better if we got off the stage."  
  
"Oh, yes, right, sorry, Master."  
  
Anakin offered Onara his arm and escorted her off the stage, Obi-Wan behind them. Once they were on the floor, the three moved away until they were far enough from the quartet to hear each other.  
  
"It's good to see you, Anakin," Onara said as she smiled up at him.  
  
And it was good to see him. He had grown a bit more, and there was a maturity about his eyes and his face that had elevated him from cute to quite handsome. He smiled down at her.  
  
"Master and I had heard you were a Senator, but we had no idea you were at this party."  
  
Onara looked over at Obi-Wan. She saw he was about to say something to her, but at that moment Keria rushed over to them from out of the crowd. Onara wasn't surprised to see her. Her handmaiden had been searching for Anakin since they'd arrive, hoping against hope he might be here.  
  
"Milady," Keria cried breathlessly as she moved next to Onara.  
  
She curtsied to Anakin and Obi-Wan, but it was apparent all her attention was focused on the young Jedi who, not surprisingly, was staring at her.  
  
Keria wore a high-waisted gown of white and silver gauze she and Onara had purchased earlier in the day. The sleeves were short and open and joined at the shoulder with silver ornaments. Her blonde hair was up in a chignon, she wore a necklace of tiny diamond pearls, and her blue eyes were sparkling as brightly as the jewels about her neck.  
  
"It's good to see you again, Keria," Obi-Wan said to her.  
  
Onara, who had not heard Obi-Wan's low, melodious voice in so long, felt a delicious thrill moving through parts of her body she did not want to dwell on.  
  
"Thank you, Master Kenobi," Keria said, dimpling prettily as she stared rapturously over at Anakin.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced between Keria and Anakin, smiling over at Onara as he did so. Again, she saw he was about to speak but just then Jar Jar rushed over to Anakin and eagerly shook his hand.  
  
"Mesa bustin with happiness seeing yousa again, Ani. And you too Obi. But yousa so biggen, Ani. Mesa can't believe yousa little Ani."  
  
Anakin grinned, shaking Jar Jar's hand in return. "I'm happy to see you too, Jar Jar."  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes were laughing as he watched the exchange between Anakin and the Gungan. He moved closer to Onara.  
  
"Onara---," he began.  
  
"Well, that wasn't too bad, Obi-Wan, now was it," a tall, distinguished- looking man with dark hair and a neat black beard called out as he approached them, accompanied by Padmé.  
  
Obi-Wan turned and, seeing the man and Padmé, bowed deeply. Padmé, who was smiling widely as she walked over, extended her hand. Obi-Wan took it.  
  
"It's a great pleasure to see you again, milady," he said warmly as he shook her hand.  
  
"It's been far too long, Master Kenobi," Padmé said, her dark eyes regarding Obi-Wan with both respect and admiration.  
  
Padmé looked over at Onara. "I believe you and Senator Lenor already know each other, so introductions I gather are not necessary."  
  
"No, they are not," Obi-Wan assured Padmé as he looked warmly over at Onara.  
  
"However, I have yet to introduce Onara to Bail," Padmé said. "Onara, may I present Viceroy Bail Organa. Bail, Senator Onara Lenor. And this beautiful young creature is Senator Lenor's handmaiden, Keria."  
  
"A pleasure to meet you, Senator Lenor," Bail said smiling as he took her hand and shook it. "And you also, beautiful, young Keria," he said with a deep smile as he took her hand and bowed over it. Keria blushed.  
  
Onara felt an instant liking for Viceroy Organa. There was a reassuring quality about him, a sense he possessed both strength and compassion. Although he was years younger than her late father had been, he reminded Onara of him. Padmé turned from her and Viceroy Organa and looked over at Anakin. Her dark brown eyes widened.  
  
"Ani? My goodness, you've grown."  
  
Anakin, who had been standing just behind Obi-Wan, moved forward almost shyly. Onara was surprised to see him blushing as he looked down at Padmé.  
  
"So have you," he said softly. "Grown more beautiful, I mean." He stopped, his face flaming even more. "Well, for a Senator, I mean."  
  
Padmé stared appraisingly up at him for a moment, then gave him a wide smile. "Well, you're certainly not that little boy I remember from Tatooine, are you?"  
  
Anakin didn't say anything. He just stared at Padmé. Onara looked over at Keria. The young blonde was glancing between Padmé and Anakin, her clear blue eyes now shadowed and confused. Onara's heart went out to her. She glanced over at Obi-Wan. From the look in his eyes she saw he also sensed Keria's distress.  
  
"Keria," he said gently.  
  
Keria turned and looked over at Obi-Wan and her eyes, Onara now saw with a pained heart, were glittering with unshed tears.  
  
"Would you do me the great honor of dancing with me?" he asked as he offered her his arm.  
  
Onara noted the other band, the one Padmé had called the resident ensemble for a lunatic asylum, had left the stage and only the Bithian quartet remained, and they had replaced their jizz instruments with stringed ones and were now playing a waltz.  
  
Keria stared at Obi-Wan, smiled and took his arm. She looked back at Onara.  
  
"Is it all right, milady?"  
  
"Yes, of course it is," she answered warmly.  
  
As Obi-Wan took Keria out onto the floor where more and more couples were now dancing, he looked back at Onara and smiled. Padmé and Anakin, meanwhile, had drifted away, but Padmé was doing most of the talking, since Anakin was only walking slowly at her side, gawking down at her. That left Onara, Viceroy Organa and Jar Jar, but he was soon gone when he was pulled out onto the dance floor by what Onara assumed was a female Gungan. Bail moved closer to Onara once Jar Jar had left.  
  
"So, you and Obi-Wan know each other?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. We met almost three years ago. He came to my homeworld to negotiate a peace settlement," Onara replied as she watched Obi-Wan and Keria dancing.  
  
Not only had she not known Obi-Wan could dance, she had also not known he was so accomplished at it. He moved as gracefully as a young lord and, as he and Keria swept past, the young blonde girl was laughing gaily at something Obi-Wan was saying to her.  
  
"Yes, Obi-Wan is a man of many talents," Bail commented.  
  
He and Onara watched the dancing for a moment. Then Bail cleared his throat.  
  
"Your handmaiden dances most divinely, Senator Lenor. I think I'll cut in."  
  
Before Onara could say a word, the Viceroy made his way over to Obi-Wan and Keria. He tapped Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan stopped dancing and looked over at Bail who spoke to him, smiling at Keria. Nodding, Obi-Wan released her, handing her over to Bail. He left the dance floor and walked quickly over to where Onara was standing alone. Without a word, he took her arm and led her through the crowd and out of the ballroom.  
  
To be continued.... 


	7. Part Seven

Thanks everyone for your great comments! :) Really appreciate them. Keep 'em coming. :D  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Seven  
  
-----------  
  
As Obi-Wan guided Onara through the crowd and out of the huge ballroom, he initially had no idea where he was going. All he knew was he wanted to get away before someone else, well-meaning as they might have been, interrupted them again.  
  
Obi-Wan had visited the Crystal Pavilion only once before. Located in the Jrade District, one of the wealthier, fashionable areas of Coruscant, the Pavilion was an elaborately designed building with fifteen floors, each containing a huge ballroom similar to the one Obi-Wan and Onara had just left. There were also amphitheaters, bathhouses, restaurants, and gardens located on each floor. He had been dismayed to learn upon his and Anakin's arrival that this was where Senator Rhygdon was holding her party, for he had anticipated just what he had found: a spectacle.  
  
But, he thought, his heart pounding as he led Onara through the corridors to where he had finally decided to take her, he had also found her. Neither of them said a word as they walked through the corridors, and Obi-Wan was only dimly aware of the people they passed. Finally he saw the door he was looking for. He went up to it and placed his palm against a rectangular piece of metal next to the door's red frame. All the guests to the party had been palm-scanned before entering the Pavilion. This allowed them access to any room in the building.  
  
The door slid open and Obi-Wan escorted Onara inside. As they entered, he was pleased to see the lights had been out, but were now coming on. That meant he and Onara were the only ones here as the lights were programmed to switch on only when someone was in the room. The door slid closed behind them and they found themselves in a bare, empty room. Onara glanced over at Obi-Wan, her dark eyes questioning.  
  
"What is this place, Obi-Wan?" she asked and, at the sound of her low, soft voice, his heart sped up even faster.  
  
"It's a holo-arboretum," he replied.  
  
"A holo-arboretum?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded as he took her hand and led her towards one of the walls of the room. "It's designed to reproduce, through holographic imagery, the landscape of thousands of worlds within the Republic."  
  
He gestured towards a silver panel in the wall upon which was a small keypad. "You enter the name of the world you want to see here."  
  
Onara leaned over and examined the panel and, as she did, her fragrance, which Obi-Wan still recalled from the blessing ceremony, filled his senses; honeyroses, night-jasmine and her. He gazed at her, almost hungrily, as she gingerly touched the panel. The long, slim skirt of her evening gown was a rich, black satin and the bodice was red velvet with a low décolletage. Her glossy black hair was swept up on her head except for one, loose ringlet that lay thick against her shoulder which, because the black, triple- shoulder straps rode low on her shoulders, left it mostly bare. Tiny ruby earrings glimmered in her ears, and she wore a simple gold necklace upon which was a sigil he recognized as the symbol for her province on Ahjane.  
  
She turned and smiled at him, and Obi-Wan felt the bottom of his stomach drop. In the two years since he'd last seen her, she had matured, but in a way that made her even more lovelier, more alluring. Motherhood had agreed with her, he saw. As had marriage, he thought with a twinge of pain.  
  
"Do you think Ahjane is programmed into the database?" she asked him.  
  
"Let's find out, shall we?" he said with a wide smile.  
  
He pressed the keypad. The tiny display screen remained blank for a moment, then lit up. Obi-Wan took Onara by the shoulders and turned her gently towards the center of the room.  
  
"Watch," he said softly.  
  
At first the room remained as bare as it had been when they first entered it, but slowly shapes began to form in the air. The lights shifted, changing color and brightness. Soon trees, shrubs, grass, and flowers shimmered, then solidified around them. Onara gasped.  
  
"I know this place. It's Suheb Province on the eastern continent. Father took me there once when I was a little girl."  
  
Soon, what had once been a bare, empty room in the Crystal Pavilion on Coruscant, was now one of the lush gardens of Suheb Province on Ahjane. Onara moved away from the wall, Obi-Wan behind her. She reached out and tentatively touched the leaves of one of the shrubs near her hand, but her fingers passed through it.  
  
"It's not real," she said.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "It's just light, made to look as if it's solid and three dimensional."  
  
"But the energy consumption must be..."  
  
"Prohibitive," Obi-Wan finished. "Yes, very much so. That's why there are only a few of these on Coruscant. They're very popular, especially with those who long for the landscapes of their homeworld."  
  
He and Onara moved through the holographic garden and it was nearly impossible not to believe they were actually on Ahjane, except there was no sounds or scents one would associate with a garden. But, that didn't matter to Obi-Wan. They were alone, at least for a little while.  
  
"Thank you, Obi-Wan," Onara said as they stopped in front of a bush brimming with large, golden honeyroses. "I've only been away from Ahjane for a short time and I miss it already. Coruscant is so...so..."  
  
"Sterile, barren, cold," Obi-Wan offered.  
  
Onara smiled, dimples flashing in her cheeks. "Well, it's not that bad, Obi- Wan. It is quite exciting, though I haven't had much of an opportunity to see it."  
  
"Perhaps I can remedy that," he offered.  
  
Onara looked at him, her smile sliding away. "Obi-Wan..." she began. She stopped and looked away. He reached over and gently touched her chin, turning her back to face him.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
She stared at him for a long moment.  
  
"I've missed you so much," she finally whispered, her eyes brimming as she gazed deeply up into his.  
  
He stroked her cheek. "As I have you."  
  
"I thought you had forgotten me."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Never, Onara. I'll never forget you."  
  
"But you found your way back? Didn't you?"  
  
Obi-Wan's hand was now cupping her face, the tips of her fingers caressing the edges of her hair. "My way?"  
  
"Back to your path. The Jedi path."  
  
At her words, Obi-Wan felt as if someone had suddenly thrown cold water in his face. He quickly drew his hand from her cheek. What had he been thinking? He looked at her, suddenly confused. She stared back at him, her dark eyes searching his.  
  
"That's why the Council sent you to Bestine, wasn't it?" she went on. "To help you find your way back?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. He moved his arms behind his back, clasping his hands firmly.  
  
"Yes. That is why."  
  
"What was it like? On Bestine?"  
  
Obi-Wan turned and continued walking through the holographic garden, Onara at his side. The room was large and the program was designed to warn them if they were getting close to one of the walls, so there was plenty of space for them to stroll about.  
  
"It's a water planet mostly. There are a few atolls on it. The Jedi Chapterhouse is located on one of them."  
  
"What did you do while you were there?"  
  
"Meditated. Read. Meditated. Exercised. Meditated."  
  
Onara laughed softly. "It sounds restful."  
  
"It was."  
  
"Were you alone?"  
  
"No, there are some Jedi on Bestine. Primarily elderly members of our Order who have retired from active duty. They tend to keep to themselves, however, preferring to commune with the Force. Most of them are strong adherents of the Unifying Force."  
  
"The Unifying Force? What is that?"  
  
"Those who are followers of the Unifying Force," Obi-Wan explained, "emphasize a more serene and contemplative path, as opposed to those who espouse the Living Force where the focus is on action and instinct."  
  
"Like the difference between a priest and a politician."  
  
A look of disgust flashed across Obi-Wan's face. Onara laughed.  
  
"Perhaps that wasn't a very good analogy," she said.  
  
"No, I suppose it was as good as any."  
  
Onara reached over and touched the sleeve of his waistcoat. "And which path do you follow, Obi-Wan?"  
  
"Master Qui-Gon was a strong believer in the Living Force. However, Master Yoda---"  
  
"I asked about you, Obi-Wan."  
  
He stopped and looked over at her. She smiled as he remained silent, reaching up to stroke the streaks of white in the red-gold hair alongside his temple, the marks of his having called upon the Dark Side of the Force when he pulled her back from the abyss of death. He clasped her hand and held it in his. He didn't want to talk about the Force, unifying or living. There was only one thing on his mind at the moment, besides her.  
  
"How is Ben?" he asked, his throat tightening.  
  
Onara gently drew her hand away, her face breaking into a wide smile.  
  
"He's my joy, Obi-Wan. I never thought I could love anyone as much as I loved my father or as much as I loved you. But Ben...he's...love personified."  
  
Obi-Wan had not missed the fact she used the past tense when she spoke of her love for him.  
  
"And Dalan?"  
  
"Dalan has been a good father, Obi-Wan. Ben is happy, bright and surrounded by people who love him. Sinja-Bau is his teacher now and he simply adores her."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that. And Sinja-Bau is well?"  
  
"Yes, very. She's been wonderful to have around. I don't know what I would have done without her."  
  
Onara smiled, her eyes sparkling, but she was shaking a finger at Obi-Wan. "Ben is quite the handful, I'll have you know. Sinja-Bau says he takes after you in that regard."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled and nodded, but he was not surprised he felt a heaviness around his heart too. Onara reached over and touched his arm.  
  
"Please, tell me what you're thinking."  
  
Obi-Wan raised his eyes and looked over at her. "I wish I could see him. I wish..."  
  
She clasped his arm. "I have something for you, Obi-Wan. Something he made for you."  
  
"For me?"  
  
Onara nodded. "It's back at my apartment. I was going to have it delivered to the Jedi Temple, but I would like to give it to you personally. If that's all right, of course."  
  
"Of course it's all right. What is it?"  
  
She tapped him on the cheek with her finger and laughed. "It's a surprise. You'll see when we get there."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at her, gladdened by the delight he saw in her eyes when she spoke of Ben. It was apparent she loved their son deeply and that, at least, put his heart at ease.  
  
"Shall we go now," he asked her, "or do you want to say longer at the party?"  
  
Onara took his arm. "I've had enough of the party. But I'll have to let Keria know I'm leaving. Though, perhaps, she'll be ready to leave also." Onara then stopped and looked up at him.  
  
"Thank you, Obi-Wan, for what you did earlier for her. It was very sweet. She's had this crush on Anakin since the day she tended his leg after he rescued Ben from Grandmother, but I've always feared she would be hurt because of it."  
  
"Why? Because of Padmé?"  
  
Onara shook her head. "I didn't know anything about Anakin and Padmé. No, I feared it because Anakin's a Jedi."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded solemnly, acknowledging the truth of her words, as they applied both to him and Anakin. They continued on towards the door. Once they reached it, it slid open. Onara looked back at the holographic garden.  
  
"Don't we have to turn it off?"  
  
"Once we leave it will shut down on its own."  
  
They walked out of the holo-arboretum. Once they were back in the corridor, which was bustling with people, Onara quickly released his arm. She then looked up at him, her dark eyes anxious as if she'd feared she'd insulted or hurt him. But he smiled to let her know her action was appropriate.  
  
He was, after all, a Jedi Knight and she a married Senator. The glade where they had watched the katarra dance, and the blessing chamber where they had made love and conceived their son was not only light years away on Ahjane, it was now the past, and the past was a realm neither could visit or dwell within. Whatever chance they'd had to be together was now gone. Onara had chosen her path, as he had his. Returning his smile, she walked with him back to the ballroom.  
  
-----------------  
  
"Are you sure, Keria?"  
  
"Oh, yes, milady! I'm having a wonderful time."  
  
Keria's young face was flushed, but with excitement this time, not embarrassment. Upon arriving back at the ballroom, Onara and Obi-Wan had split up as they searched through the crowd for Keria, Anakin and Padmé. Although the number of guests had thinned out, enough people remained that it had taken Onara some moments before she finally found Keria. Her handmaiden had been dancing with a tall, red-haired, richly-dressed son of a Corellian diplomat who was still hovering nearby.  
  
"But, how will you get home?" Onara asked.  
  
She didn't think the red-haired boy was dangerous, but she was responsible for Keria, having promised her parents she would look after her.  
  
"Don't worry. I'll escort her home once she's ready to leave."  
  
Onara turned and looked up into the dark eyes of Viceroy Organa. "Are you certain, Viceroy? I wouldn't want to impose on you."  
  
Viceroy Organa shook his head, smiling widely at her. "It would not be an imposition, but a honor," he said bowing to Keria.  
  
Onara looked back at Keria whose bright blue eyes were shining. Onara was happy to see she'd apparently gotten over that incident with Anakin earlier in the evening, and she was loathe to do anything that would spoil the fun her handmaiden was having.  
  
"All right," Onara said. "But don't stay too late."  
  
"I won't, milady," Keria cried.  
  
She quickly turned and flew back into the arms of the diplomat's son. He escorted her onto the dance floor and they whirled away.  
  
"Thank you, Viceroy Organa," Onara said to him. "And don't let her keep you here too late."  
  
He laughed softly. "If I didn't know any better, Senator Lenor, I would think you were worried that someone as old as I was incapable of keeping up with such young people."  
  
Onara's eyes widened. "Oh, no," she gasped. "I didn't mean that at all. No, I just thought, perhaps, you had----"  
  
The Viceroy lifted his hands in a gesture of placation. "I was teasing. Actually, Elester, flamboyant as she may be, is also frugal. She will have, more than likely, hired the Bith quartet for only a couple more hours. I'll have Keria home shortly after that."  
  
"Thank you, Viceroy."  
  
Then Onara noted he was looking past her. She turned, her heart skipping, as Obi-Wan walked towards them, a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
"Obi-Wan," Viceroy Organa said.  
  
"Bail. Have you seen Anakin?"  
  
"He and Padmé, I believe, are taking a stroll outside on the balcony."  
  
Obi-Wan frowned harder. "I wanted to tell him I'm escorting Senator Lenor home."  
  
One of the Viceroy's dark brows rose. "Indeed. Well, if you like Obi-Wan, I'll inform both him and Padmé that the two of you have left."  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated, then released a sigh. Onara sensed he wasn't pleased about something, but whether it was having Bail inform Anakin he was leaving, or that Anakin was still in Padmé's company, she wasn't sure.  
  
"If you could do that, Bail, I'd be grateful."  
  
The Viceroy inclined his head. He turned to Onara, taking her hand.  
  
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Senator. I hope we shall have more opportunities to meet in the future."  
  
"Perhaps we will," Onara replied, her mouth lifting up into a small smile. "I'm looking into obtaining a seat on the Senate's Committee on Ethics. There is a vacancy, correct?"  
  
The Viceroy glanced over at Obi-Wan, then back at Onara. "Yes, there is. But, I must warn you, it's very rare that a freshman senator is assigned a seat on that particular committee."  
  
"There's always a first time for everything, Viceroy Organa," Onara stated.  
  
He stared at her, then nodded, smiling. "That is indeed true, Senator Lenor. Very well then. Good luck on your endeavor. And good night to you both."  
  
Obi-Wan bowed deeply as the Viceroy moved past them and into the crowd. He looked over at Onara, frowning slightly.  
  
"The Ethics Committee?" he said with barely disguised disapproval.  
  
"What's wrong with the Ethics Committee?" Onara asked, walking with him across the floor, out of the ballroom and over to the cloak room.  
  
Obi-Wan passed over the chit for his cloak to the droid attendant. "The Galactic Senate having an Ethics Committee is akin to having the prison inmates deciding the lengths of their sentences and the degree of their punishments."  
  
Onara, who was retrieving her red cape, stopped and stared at Obi-Wan.  
  
"I can't believe you just said that. Viceroy Organa is the Ethics Committee's chair. I thought he was your friend."  
  
"He is my friend. And he's a good, decent man," Obi-Wan replied as he helped Onara put on her cape. "But he's fighting an uphill battle. The Senate is rife with corruption, and an _ethics committee_, well meaning as it may sound, is not going to stop that corruption."  
  
After putting on his black cloak, Obi-Wan led Onara to a lift, which took them to the top of the pavilion where they could hire an air-taxi. Onara shook her head as she stood next to Obi-Wan.  
  
"I had no idea you were so cynical about government," she said.  
  
"I'm not cynical," Obi-Wan replied as they walked onto the pavilion's landing area. Turning around, he searched for an air-taxi, the brisk upper air currents ruffling their hair and whipping at their cloaks.  
  
"I'm realistic," he went on, gesturing towards a nearby, idling air-taxi. "Someone once said that an accurate observation is often called cynicism by those who don't possess it."  
  
Onara, who had been watching the air-taxi descend next to them, an alien she recognized as an Aqualish piloting it, whirled on Obi-Wan, her eyes narrowing. However, before she could tell him, in no uncertain terms, just what she thought of his cynicism, his aphorism and his so-called accurate observations, she noted the smile on his lips and the twinkle in his eyes and realized he was only teasing her. She relaxed and smiled at him.  
  
Taking her arm, he helped her into the back seat of the air-taxi. After informing the pilot of their destination, he leaned close to her.  
  
"If you could have seen the look on your face," he whispered, a smile in his voice, his breath soft against her cheek. "I have no fear, Onara. You will do well in the Senate, possessing such fire along with such beauty."  
  
Onara's cheeks warmed at both his words and his nearness. She turned and looked over at him, her gaze falling into the beauty that were his eyes and, as the air taxi sped through the dazzling, colorful, invigorating cityscape that was Coruscant at night, Onara wondered if personally giving Ben's present to Obi-Wan had been such a good idea.  
  
To be continued... 


	8. Part Eight

Stars in the Darkness - Part Eight  
  
--------------  
  
"Look, Bau-Bau. It's Mama."  
  
"Yes, little one. I see her."  
  
She smiled over at Ben who was jumping up and down excitedly in Dalan's lap, pointing at his mother on the wide screen. They, along with most of the household staff, were in the large, first-floor drawing room of the manor. Dalan had recently had a connection to the HoloNet installed, and it just so happened the first broadcast was of Senator Rhygdon's party on Coruscant which---Sinja-Bau quickly calculated Coruscant time against Ahjane time---had happened some hours ago.  
  
At first Dalan had not thought Onara would be in attendance, but when he saw her being pulled upon the stage by Senator Rhygdon, he had quickly summoned most of the servants so they could see her.  
  
Now, Sinja-Bau watched as Onara and Obi-Wan, along with Anakin, were introduced to the crowd at the party. Upon hearing Obi-Wan's name, Ben leaned forward so far out of Dalan's lap, Sinja-Bau feared he was going to tumble onto the floor.  
  
"Obi-Wan," he said, his voice filled with awe, his wide, blue-gray eyes fixed on the screen. Then he jumped up and down again on Dalan's lap. "Papa, look, look! It's Obi-Wan. It's Obi-Wan!"  
  
Sinja-Bau glanced at Dalan. The young Dynast's gaze was fastened on the screen, but his dark blue eyes were somber. Sinja-Bau looked at the screen and just happened to catch the warm smile Obi-Wan gave Onara. And the way Onara looked over at the handsome Jedi Knight as she returned his smile.  
  
Sinja-Bau shivered slightly as she felt a icy caress of premonition stealing down her spine. She no longer had her visions, but her connection to the Force had returned and it was warning her. But of what, she did not know.  
  
After Onara, Obi-Wan and Anakin had left the stage, the HoloNet correspondent, a purple-haired human female with a wide, red mouth, smiled from where she was standing somewhere in the crowd. She reminded the audience to tune in tomorrow for something called _Sightings from Twang_ where, the woman promised, her bright, yellow eyes glittering, someone named Dyslogia Twang would present his exclusive, insider report of all the goings on at Senator Rhygdon's party.  
  
"All the juicy gossip you could want, sweetlings," the woman purred.  
  
Sinja-Bau grimaced. It looked like things hadn't changed much on Coruscant. There was still an insatiable need of the public for anything salacious and scandalous concerning the rich and powerful, and a media more than willing to dish it out.  
  
Well, she thought, as she rose from her chair and went to get Ben from Dalan and take him to bed, she had no intention of tuning in tomorrow for _Sightings from Twang_ or sightings from anyone else for that matter. She had seen Onara and she looked well and happy, and Ben had seen his mother and, finally, for the first time, his hero, Obi-Wan.  
  
Actually, as Sinja-Bau took Ben from Dalan, who didn't even seem to notice she had done so, Obi-Wan was all Ben talked about until he finally went to sleep.  
  
-----------  
  
Onara waved on the lights to her apartment as she and Obi-Wan entered it. She had forgotten about the boxes still scattered about the common area. She glanced over at Obi-Wan, embarrassed about the clutter, and was about to apologize but, when she saw the look in his eyes as he gazed over at her, her throat suddenly closed up. She quickly looked away, making her way through the boxes, Obi-Wan behind her. She took off her cape and laid it on the couch. She turned to Obi-Wan who was standing just behind her.  
  
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Non-alcoholic, of course," she quickly added. "I think I have some paupa juice or green tea if you'd prefer---"  
  
"No, Onara," Obi-Wan said, his eyes soft on her. "I'm fine, thank you."  
  
"Oh. Well, please, sit down, Obi-Wan."  
  
He took off his cloak and laid it next to her cape. Onara had been surprised to see him dressed that way when she first saw him at the party, accustomed as she was to seeing most Jedi in the traditional clothing they wore. Though, she now recalled, she had seen him in the black outfit he'd worn when he went in search of Sinja-Bau.  
  
But what he wore now--the black, velvet waist-coat, the soft, white shirt, gray pants, and knee-high boots-- made him look like a handsome, young courtier from an ancient Ahjane court, having stepped out, flesh and blood, from one of the romances Onara used to sneak and read at the Cloister. Noting he was still standing, she invited him again to sit. He shook his head and smiled.  
  
"I'm too excited to sit."  
  
"Excited?"  
  
"About my present," he said, his blue-gray eyes sparkling.  
  
"Of course," Onara laughed. "Here. Let me get it for you."  
  
She turned and went into her bedroom. There were boxes in here also, but Onara knew exactly where she had put Ben's gift. Opening the bureau next to her bed, she took it out. She'd had the drawing framed and gift-wrapped in red and gold paper. Her heart beat hard as she held it in her hands, both excited and nervous about Obi-Wan's reaction to it. He had requested, when Ben was a baby, for her not to tell their son about him, fearing it would only confuse him. And he had been right.  
  
When Onara had started telling Ben stories about Obi-Wan, as he got older she also tried to tell him Obi-Wan was his father, but it had only confused him. The only father he had ever known was Dalan. But she had continued to tell him stories about the Jedi Knight, unable to deny him, or herself, she now realized, the pleasure of those stories.  
  
As a result, Ben knew about Obi-Wan, but only as some larger-than-life figure, a brave and mighty knight who fought dark lords and space-dragons, rescued fair maidens, and upheld justice and truth. Onara's fingers tightened around the gift. Turning, she went back towards the common room but, just before she went through her bedroom door, she stopped.  
  
Obi-Wan was walking about the common room. The glow lamps were on in the apartment, but they were so low the lights from Coruscant's dazzling cityscape were the primary illumination. As she continued to watch him, the lights from beyond the windows glimmering on his red-gold hair as he moved about, examining the carvings, statutes and paintings she had brought from Ahjane to give her some semblance of home, her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. Though she had tried as hard as she could to love Dalan, it was Obi-Wan who reigned supreme as the singular sovereign of her heart. And she was his devoted and, she now feared, ill-fated subject.  
  
But, determined to renounce the passion she still felt for Obi-Wan and hold true to the vow she had sworn to Sinja-Bau the night before she left Ahjane, to be true to Dalan, Onara took in and released a deep breath and walked over to the Jedi. She would give him Ben's gift as she had promised and that would be that. He would leave, return to the Temple and the path he had chosen, and she would go to bed, alone, and wake up tomorrow with neither guilt or regret darkening her thoughts, for she would have also remained true to the path she had chosen.  
  
Obi-Wan was standing in front of a small statue he had looked at earlier, but had returned to. As Onara drew closer and saw it, her cheeks burned. It was a statuette of the fabled lovers Romal and Juvia, characters in one of Ahjane's most beloved love stories.  
  
Although the story ended in tragedy, with the death of the star-crossed lovers, it was often performed in theaters all over Ahjane. Dalan had given the statuette to Onara for her birthday. It showed the lovers clasped in a particularly erotic embrace. As she drew nearer, Obi-Wan turned from it and looked over at her, his blue-gray eyes meeting her dark ones.  
  
"Lovely," he said, gesturing towards it.  
  
Onara nodded, but her throat was so tight she could hardly speak.  
  
"Dalan gave it to me for my birthday."  
  
Obi-Wan stared at her and, for a moment, it looked as if a shadow had passed over his eyes.  
  
"It's of Romal and Juvia," she went on. "From a very old story."  
  
"A story?" Obi-Wan said with a soft smile. "I remember your stories, Onara. Do you still tell them?"  
  
Onara nodded, looking down at Ben's present in her hands.  
  
"To Ben?" Obi-Wan went on.  
  
She raised her eyes and looked over at him, her heart so full she thought it would burst.  
  
"Yes, to Ben."  
  
"Before he goes to bed?"  
  
Onara nodded, suddenly feeling as if she were going to cry. She quickly blinked away the tears she felt stinging her eyes.  
  
"Ben's present," she said, handing it over, her voice trembling slightly.  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes widened at the beautifully wrapped package. He took it and held it for a moment, gazing down at it. Then, without a word, he gently opened it; careful, Onara noted, not to tear the wrapping. Once he was done unwrapping it, he looked at the drawing. Onara had had it framed in an ebony and gold picture frame a few days ago. As Obi-Wan continued to stare down at Ben's drawing, his ongoing silence suddenly made Onara uneasy. She reached over and pointed at the drawing; needlessly, she realized, but unable to stop herself.  
  
"That's Ben and that's you," she said. "And Ben...he wrote that himself," she said nervously of his red childish scrawl. "Well, actually, Dalan helped him. Ben wanted you to know that. He's just learning how to write his letters. That's why some of the words are misspelled, but Sinja-Bau says he's the brightest two year old she's ever seen and..."  
  
Onara's voice trailed away as Obi-Wan walked silently past her, his gaze locked on the drawing. She watched, her breath catching, as he moved over to the couch. He turned and then, almost as if he were falling, dropped heavily onto it.  
  
"For Obi-Wan, Jedi Knight. My hero. From your good friend, Ben," she heard him whisper.  
  
But it wasn't what he said that caused the blood to chill in her veins. It was the way he said it, his voice sounding both empty and full. But full of pain. Onara rushed over and, her evening gown pooling around her, knelt on the floor next to him. She put her hand on his knee and squeezed it.  
  
"Obi-Wan," she said gently.  
  
He tore his gaze away from Ben's gift and looked over at her, his blue-gray eyes shimmering in the near-darkness of the room.  
  
"Do you have a picture of him?" he asked in a low, soft voice.  
  
Onara nodded, her throat thick and hard. She rose quickly from the floor and went into her bedroom. On her bureau was the picture she had shown to Padmé earlier in the day of her, Dalan and Ben. But there was another on it. It was of Ben alone. It was a 2-D photograph of a large oil painting that hung in the drawing room of the manor. Another present from Dalan. Given that, one day, when he came of age, Ben would rule as Dynast of both their provinces, Dalan had had him painted in the ceremonial attire of a future Dynast.  
  
Ben wore a dark blue dress coat with cream-colored satin and gold braid along its edges. The sleeves were somewhat wide at the wrist and were turn- backed, laced and edged in gold. The coat had a slight flair and ended just below his little knees. Underneath the coat he wore a cream-colored neck cloth, white satin breeches, silk stockings, and dark blue, silver-buckled shoes.  
  
Dalan had apparently requested the artist paint Ben with a serious expression, for his little face was appropriately solemn, as befitting a future Dynast, but the painter had also captured the vivacity and the irrepressible delight in his beautiful blue-gray eyes as they shone underneath his thick black hair. The very eyes he shared with the man who now sat in Onara's apartment.  
  
She picked up the portrait of Ben and took it to Obi-Wan. The Jedi was still sitting on the couch, their son's drawing clasped between his hands. Onara sat gently next to him and handed him Ben's portrait. Obi-Wan took it. Again, he gazed quietly at it for a long moment. Then, again, without a word, he carefully placed both the drawing and the photograph of Ben's painting on the low table in front of the couch, rose from it and walked across the room where he stopped in the front of the huge glass door that led out to the apartment's veranda.  
  
Onara sat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her gaze was locked on Ben's drawing and his portrait, but she didn't really see them. For a long moment she sat on the couch as Obi-Wan stood silently in front of the glass door. Then she rose from the couch and went over to him. She stood behind him for a moment, then gently slipped her arms around his waist, pressing the side of her face against the back of his soft, velvet waistcoat.  
  
At first Obi-Wan did not move. Then she felt him move his hands up and grab hers where they were clasped across his chest. Their fingers gently entwined.  
  
"Do you know," she heard him say in a soft, reflective voice, "there are these wondrous creatures who live in the oceans of Bestine. They're called the Pili. Some of them are as big as star-liners. I swam with them every day I was on Bestine. They're very strong with the Force. That's why the Jedi built the chapterhouse on Bestine. To learn and study with the Pili."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped for a moment. Onara held him tighter.  
  
"The Pili do not mind the presence of the Jedi," he continued, "and they are willing to share their knowledge of the Force with us, but they have no desires beyond that. They crave nothing, neither to be of service or to be served. All they do, all they want, is to commune with the Force. It sings to them and they revel in its song. And I would swim with them, yearning to feel the Force as they did, watching with envy as they danced and swam within its beauty. And sometimes, if I concentrated very hard as I swam with them, I felt a little of what they did."  
  
Obi-Wan's voice, which Onara could hear was on the verge of tears, shifted slightly.  
  
"Their thoughts, Onara," he said in an awed-filled voice, "are almost....glacial. No desire, no fear, no passion, no want. Just the Force, pure and untainted."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed heavily, and Onara's face, where it was pressed against his broad back, rose and feel with his breath.  
  
"It was because of the Pili and what I experienced with them that I was able to find my way back to the Jedi path. They helped me to remember what it was I had sworn my life to; the vows I had taken the day I became a Jedi Knight. A thousand years ago, after the Battle of Ruusan, Jedi Master Hoche Trit said that a Jedi is a Jedi, first, foremost, and only. To divide his attention between the will of the Force and the will of others is to invite disaster."  
  
Onara closed her eyes, the tears slipping beneath her lids and down her cheeks, moistening the fabric of Obi-Wan's waistcoat. Yes, this she knew. Had always known.  
  
"A Jedi's loyalties," Obi-Wan went on, "must be to the Force, the Jedi Order, the Republic, and to himself, in that order. Do you understand that, Onara?" he asked, his voice now ragged with grief.  
  
"Yes, yes, I do," Onara whispered against his back.  
  
She felt him turning around. She released him and, as he faced her, looked up into his eyes, but was nearly knocked over by the pain she saw in them.  
  
"I understood it also," he said softly, his eyes bright with the tears she sensed he was struggling to hold in. "Until now."  
  
He reached over and gently stroked her cheek. "Listen, carefully, Onara. I must leave. Right now. Because if I don't...."  
  
He stopped and took her gently by the arms, his shimmering eyes sweeping desperately over her face.  
  
"If I don't leave now," he said, his voice both fierce and gentle, "I will take you into my arms and never let you go. And I will give up everything for you. And for Ben; the Jedi, my duty, the promise I made to my master to train Anakin. I know this, Onara. I know this as surely as I know Coruscant spins around its sun. I felt it from the very moment I saw you tonight at the party.  
  
He glanced over at Ben's drawing and portrait where they lay on the table.  
  
"I thought I was strong enough to stand firm with my convictions. But now I have seen what my life could have been if I had done what I longed to do when last we were together. Taken you as my wife and Ben as my son. A son..." Obi-Wan stopped, his voice aching "...a son any father would be proud and honored to call his own. A beautiful son from a beautiful woman whom I still love with all that I am and all I will ever be."  
  
Onara could only gaze up at Obi-Wan in despair. She was about to speak, to tell him she still loved him too, but he put his finger on her lips and gently shook his head no.  
  
"Keep your honor, my love. I will speak for us both."  
  
He reached inside his shirt and pulled out the pendant her father had given him before he left on his quest to find Sinja-Bau. He pressed it open and the tiny holographic image of Onara and Ben as a newborn formed between them.  
  
"I kept this," he told her. "Close to and within my heart."  
  
He shook his head, looking down and away from her. "I have not been honest. With myself or with the Council. You and Ben have always been foremost in my heart."  
  
Onara reached over and clasped his face between her hands, but she was unable to speak, for fear of the words she would say. Obi-Wan raised his eyes and looked over at her.  
  
"And if you and Ben were mine, truly mine, I would oppose with all my strength and all my power, even unto death, anyone or anything who tried to take you from me. Even he who has right and honorable claim to you both. Even he, though it pains me to say this, whom I now envy above all men."  
  
He reached up and put his hands over hers where they held his face.  
  
"So, my lovely one, do you see why I must go?"  
  
Onara nodded, the tears welling in her eyes again. "Yes, I do. I do."  
  
"I know you have sworn to be true to Dalan. I can feel it. And that is as it should be," Obi-Wan added softly, his eyes brimming as he looked down at her. "Because, by the ancients, I would rather die than hurt you."  
  
"But, by the gods, I would rather you hurt me than die," Onara whispered.  
  
Obi-Wan turned his face and kissed the palm of her hand as it lay against his cheek.  
  
"You will keep Ben's gift, won't you?" she asked. "He wanted so much for you to have it."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled down at her. "Of course I will keep it. And will you tell him...tell him thank you for me?"  
  
Onara nodded. Then she swallowed and gazed imploringly up into his eyes.  
  
"Will I ever see you again?"  
  
"Of course. Just not like this. Not alone like this. It would not be wise? Agreed?"  
  
She nodded. He was right. For even now, all she could think of was how much she longed to be his arms, loving and being loved by him.  
  
"But when Ben comes to Coruscant, you will see him, won't you?"  
  
Obi-Wan smiled widely. "Of course I will. I look forward to it. Very much so."  
  
He reached up and gently took Onara's hands from his face. He held one of them as he led her over to the couch where they both sat. Leaning over, he picked up Ben's portrait, staring down at it.  
  
"Is he happy?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, very."  
  
Obi-Wan slowly nodded. He gave the portrait to Onara who clutched it to her chest. Rising, he reached for his cloak and put it on. He picked up Ben's drawing, along with the paper wrapping it had come in, which he folded neatly and placed on top of the picture. Then he looked over at Onara.  
  
"Thank you, Onara, for bringing this to me."  
  
"I promised Ben I would give it to you. You're his hero, Obi-Wan. Please don't be angry, but I told him stories about you. And...at first, when I told him the stories, I also tried to tell him you were his father."  
  
She stopped for a moment when she saw the alarm in his eyes.  
  
"But you were right," she went on quickly. "It only confused him. He thinks Dalan is his father."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "As it should be. But know this, Onara. If ever you or Ben have need of me, do not hesitate to call upon me. I will come. You have my solemn vow on that."  
  
He reached over and took her hand. Lifting it, he kissed it gently.  
  
"Good night, Senator Lenor," he said, his blue-gray eyes gazing deeply into hers.  
  
"Good night, Master Kenobi," Onara replied, a knot forming hard in her throat.  
  
He lowered her hand and smiled at her. Then, turning quickly, Ben's gift firmly in hand, he turned and left her apartment. Once Onara heard the door to the lift open, then slide shut, she crumpled to the floor, Ben's portrait pressed tightly to her chest as she wept quietly.  
  
To be continued.... 


	9. Part Nine

Stars in the Darkness - Part Nine  
  
----------------  
  
_HoloNet News: The Information Source for the Galactic Republic - Morning Edition Broadcast Feed__  
  
_GALACTIC CITY, COURSCANT_ - A rash of robberies were reported last night to local authorities. Centered around Trilium Boulevard, the robberies were committed within the space of a few hours. No one was hurt and witnesses could only describe the criminal as thin and pale, with some reporting the robber had four arms and others six.  
  
_TURNAG, QUITEN_ - An earthquake rattled the capital city of Quiten. Inhabitants of Turnag ran into the street after the quake, which measured 20.3 on the Jasvin scale. The earthquake was the latest in a series of tremors to hit the capital. The Prefect of Turnag urged the population to disregard statements issued by the cult known as the Ruby Temple that the earthquakes were a sign a galactic apocalypse was at hand.  
  
_DOOLIS, CAPRIORIL_ - The Ratts Tyerell Foundation, established in memory of the Podracing champion by his son, Pabs Tyerell, has called for a boycott of this week's Podracing finals to be held at the Doolis Podrace Arena. "I will not rest," said Pabs, "until this so-called sport is finally banned. Although it has been a decade since my father's death, our family still grieves his loss."  
  
_COROMON ISLAND, FRESIA_ - Representatives from both Incom and Subpro have denied rumors that after 125 years of partnership the two are calling it quits. Their latest co-venture, the Incom/Subpro Z-95AFA, part of the venerable Headhunter line of starfighters, was recently introduced. Despite lackluster sales of the Z-95 in the first quarter, spokesbeing for Incom, Gchild Nakarri, assured stockholders the company expected things to turn around soon. "What with all the turmoil in the galaxy right now," said Nakarri, "we expect a surge of orders in the near future."  
  
_JRADE DISTRICT, COURSCANT_ - Although the Republic Senate will not officially start its new session of the year until later this month, a bevy of Senators, along with well-known entertainment, political and business leaders, were in attendance at Senator Elester Rhygdon's party at the Crystal Pavilion last night. For an exclusive report on the party, stay tuned for _Sightings by Twang_  
  
_SPECIAL FEATURE: SIGHTINGS BY TWANG_  
  
_IMAGE OF DYSLOGIA TWANG IN A BRIGHT GREEN AND RED ROBE_  
  
Greetings, gentle beings! Yours truly had the luck of lucks to attend Senator Elester Rhygdon's exclusive welcome back party last night for some of our illustrious Senators who have returned for another session of the Senate. But, if the party was any indication, I don't think the Senate is going to get anymore work done this year than they did last year. But, enough of politics. On to the _dirt_, shall we?  
  
_Flash_ I happened to catch the former Chancellor Finis Valorum in the company of an oh-so-boring looking Duros. I later found out the Duros is the only heir to a rather large shipping fortune. Who knew? He was dressed like one of the help.  
  
_Flash_ I thought I was going to faint when I saw Illora Vantana. Can that woman get any lovelier? She was positively dazzling in a Ching original. She came to the party alone, sweeties, but, knowing our lovely Illora she didn't go home alone.  
  
_IMAGE OF TWANG WINKING BROADLY_  
  
_Flash_ Konan Izzat, the recent winner of the Republic's highest literary honor, the Prixi Golden Quill, was also there. In my opinion, he should take some of his winnings and buy himself some new clothes. I understand one must suffer for one's art, but pleaaaaase! Must we all suffer too? He was dressed in a rather wilted looking tuxedo that was beyond tacky. It was _infra_tacky.  
  
_IMAGE OF TWANG HOLDING HIS THIN FINGERS TO HIS BROAD, FLAT NOSE_  
  
_Flash_ But, darlings, here's the real dirt, which I know you all are just dying to hear. Two members of the Jedi Order were also in attendance, invited by Senator Rhygdon for having rescued her poor little one from those terrible kidnappers. It's not often yours truly gets a chance to observe the Jedi at such a gathering, so I certainly was not going to pass up the opportunity. I kept my eyes on those two all night.  
  
The Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, was dressed rather dully for his striking good looks, but carried it off well in spite and was quite the hit with Coruscant's hip, young crowd. And, surprise, surprise, was also a hit, or so it seemed, with a certain young Senator from Naboo who, I am so glad to say, no longer has to wear that perfectly ghastly make-up she wore as its Queen. Senator Amidala is much too lovely and dazzling a creature to hide her stunning features under gobs of white paste! Shudder!  
  
But, sweeties, that's not all. Skywalker's master, the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, was also in attendance and looking, I must say, quite dashing in a velvet black waist-coat, ivory shirt and pearl-gray pants. If only the other Jedi would take a hint from him and get out of those oh-so-boring robes. They're so infratacky!  
  
But, sweeties, listen closely. Here's the _ultra_dirt I promised! It seems the reputation the Jedi have for being a celibate order of oh-so-boring monks is not quite true. At least not where it concerned Knight Kenobi and a young, beautiful and, yes, darlings, very much married senator from Ahjane. But, if you had seen the vision of loveliness that caught his eye, you would have hardly blamed Knight Kenobi for tossing his Jedi vows right out the window!  
  
Ahjane may be a backward, provincial, late-comer to the Republic, but they certainly grow the most lovely flora. Senator Lenor was simply dazzling, sweeties, in a red and black, off-the-shoulder evening gown. It looked like a Ernan original, but I'm not sure. I'll have to check my sources. Let's hope Senator Lenor keeps her stylish ways while here on Coruscant. Stars know, we certainly need more panache and less tacky.  
  
However, the lovely freshman senator might be hard-pressed to keep her mind on Senate business, much less her fashion sense. She left the party rather early in the company of Knight Kenobi and, I dare say, sweeties, they didn't go off to discuss the current political situation in the galaxy. At least I hope not. Two such gorgeous creatures would have found other more, shall we say, _interesting_ things to do with their time, don't you think? Hmmm, I wonder what poor hubby thinks of all this? Stuck back on oh-so- boring Ahjane while his beautiful young wife is escorted through the most dazzling, romantic planet in the galaxy by a handsome Jedi Knight.  
  
_IMAGE OF TWANG SMILING AND LEANING CLOSE TO THE SCREEN_  
  
It has been said the Jedi Order and the Senate Republic have been political bedfellows for far too long. Well, sweeties, if Knight Kenobi and Senator Lenor are any indication, the Jedi and the Senate are fated to be in bed together for quite some time, both politically and literally.  
  
_IMAGE OF TWANG WINKING BROADLY_  
  
That's all for now, sweeties. Ta ta and much happiness!  
  
_Broadcast Feed Terminated_  
  
-------------  
  
Anakin whistled happily as he strolled out of the fresher, a towel wrapped around his tall, lean body, another in his hands as he dried his hair. He'd woken up early, eager to start the morning. Although he didn't have a lot to do today, since both he and his master were, ostensibly, being giving some time by the Council to recuperate from their latest spate of missions, Anakin had not wanted to let a minute go by when he wasn't thinking about what had happened last night at Senator Rhygdon's party.  
  
Although, in retrospect, it made sense Padmé would also have been in attendance, it hadn't really occurred to Anakin she would actually be there. Thus, when he saw her standing next to Viceroy Organa after he, Obi- Wan and Onara left the stage following Senator Rhygdon's introductions, he'd at first thought he was dreaming. But, it wasn't a dream. Padmé had been standing there, ethereally beautiful, yes, but as real as anything Anakin could ever have wished for. She hadn't changed a bit in the ten years since he'd last seen her. Whereas he, and he smiled at the thought, was finally able to look down at her instead of vice versa.  
  
The time they had spent together at the party had been magical. At least to Anakin. Padmé, however, had spent most of the time they'd share discussing, of all things, politics. Anakin grimaced. It had been almost as bad as having to listen to one of Master Obi-Wan's lectures on the economics of politics, especially when all Anakin could think of was how beautiful Padmé's eyes were, or how soft her neck looked, or how lovely her voice was. Padmé, however, had only seemed interested in him as some kind of sounding board regarding her very strong opinions on the role of the Jedi Order in galactic affairs.  
  
Anakin sat down on the couch in his quarters, rubbing the towel even harder through his hair. Well, he thought, at least he had been in her company. And he had stayed in her company most of the night. When Viceroy Organa finally found him and informed him Master Obi-Wan had left the party in order to escort Senator Lenor home, it was the first thing that had happened since Anakin had found himself with Padmé that finally drew his attention away from her.  
  
For some reason, he now recalled, he had experienced a frisson of unease when the Viceroy told him Obi-Wan and Onara had left the party together. But, he had quickly dismissed it. He was very much aware that his master still had feelings for Onara, but he also knew Obi-Wan would not act upon them. No, his master would do all within his powers to preserve not only his honor, but hers.  
  
Anakin lowered the towel and put it on the couch next to him. Glancing at the wall chrono he saw it was time for the early morning broadcast from the HoloNet News. Eager to see if, in addition to the footage shot of him, Obi- Wan and Onara being introduced by Senator Rhygdon, there was any more mention of him, he ordered his holoscreen on.  
  
Leaning back against the couch, his fingers playing with the edge of the towel about his waist, Anakin listened for a bit to the news reports. But, for something as large of an entity as the Galactic Republic, there was an awful lot of news. Anakin instructed the holoscreen to filter out anything not related to Coruscant. He felt a little guilty doing so because Obi-Wan was always chiding him about not keeping abreast of current affairs, even if they weren't directly related to the concerns of the Jedi Order.  
  
His master had some esoteric theory regarding society which Anakin had never quite understood, but its core precept was that it was possible for even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant incident to act as a catalyst for unpredictable and sometimes drastic consequences, thereby affecting even larger events.  
  
When Anakin had only stared vacantly at Obi-Wan as he had explained his theory, his master had tried to illustrate it by using the example of a butterfly. If a butterfly flapped its wings in the Gardens of Troyla, which were on the other side of Coruscant, Obi-Wan had said, its tiny wings could disturb the air currents in such a way as to eventually cause it to rain over the Jedi Temple.  
  
Now, recalling that conversation, Anakin frowned as he gazed at the holoscreen. He'd had a bit of headache after Obi-Wan had finally stopped pontificating about initial conditions, complex and unpredictable results, and non-linear dynamic systems, but Anakin was also glad his master was so well-read and thought so deeply about such stuff. It meant Anakin didn't have to and, as far as he was concerned, that made for a perfect Jedi team. Master Obi-Wan was the brains and came up with all their plans and strategies and Anakin was the muscle and carried them out.  
  
Noting the news reports were now over, which, Anakin realized with embarrassment, he'd only half been listening to, he heard that _Sightings by Twang_ was about to come on. His ears perked up. Although he'd never paid much attention to the fat alien's gossip, chiefly because his master thought Dyslogia Twang was nothing more than a sleazy, parasitic opportunist who fed upon people's frailties and weaknesses, dishing out his rumors and innuendoes to an all-too-wiling galactic populace, sordidly keen to savor over Twang's half-truths and, sometimes, outright lies, Anakin knew he'd also been at the party and wondered if, perhaps, the alien gossip columnist might make mention of him.  
  
At first, Anakin had laughed at Twang's appraisal of Konan Izzat's attire. Although Anakin had not met the writer, his master had and seemed impressed with the author's erudite conversation, but Anakin had thought Izzat looked pretty pathetic in his tuxedo. It had been as wrinkled as a wilted piece of lettuce.  
  
However, when Twang finally mentioned him, but cackled that Anakin had been dressed rather dully, the Padawan's blue eyes narrowed and, when he'd heard what that blob of pus had to say about the make-up Padmé used to wear as the queen of Naboo, his hands clenched into hard fists.  
  
However, he didn't have much time to mull over how he'd like to dunk Twang's fat, round head into a vat of bantha snot and hold it there for awhile, because what came next out of the obese gossipmonger's flapping maw caused Anakin's mouth to drop open, his tongue to go dry and his head to start spinning.  
  
He leapt from the couch and quickly put on some clothes. As he left his quarters to find his master, the image of that tub of lard winking lewdly at the camera as he spewed out his muck to the entire galaxy about Obi-Wan and the woman he loved, but had honorably given up, was burning a brand in Anakin's mind.  
  
---------  
  
"Papa! Papa. Help me! Help me!"  
  
Obi-Wan turned around, a thick, gray fog enveloping him. He could hear the little girl's voice, but he couldn't see her, and he wasn't even sure as to where he was. He was unable to sense anything regarding the dimensionality of his surroundings, neither its height or its length, or whether he was inside or outside. It felt as if he were standing on something, but he couldn't tell if it was a floor or ground.  
  
The fog in which he stood was not only thick and heavy, but slippery and moist, seeming to slip over his skin like slime from a stagnant pond. And, it also seemed as if Obi-Wan could just make out spectral shapes, ghostly figures of smoke and mist that formed, dissolved, then reformed around him; vaporous shapes that could only have come from some nightmarish plane of existence.  
  
"Papa. Are you there? Please answer me!" the tiny voice cried.  
  
"Where are you?" Obi-Wan shouted. "Tell me where you are and I'll come and help you."  
  
"Papa?" the voice queried. "Papa, is that you?"  
  
Obi-Wan was confused. The voice who was crying out to him in the fog was not that of a small boy, but of a little girl, so it couldn't be Ben.  
  
"Papa? Are you there? Please, help me."  
  
"Yes, I'll help you. Don't worry. Just tell me where you are."  
  
"I don't know where I am, Papa. I can't see anything. I'm so scared. Please help me, Papa."  
  
Obi-Wan could hear the little girl was on the verge of tears. He moved through the dense gray fog, trying to determine where her voice was coming from.  
  
"Don't be scared. Just keep talking and I'll find you."  
  
"Is it really you, Papa? Please, tell me it's you."  
  
Obi-Wan swallowed hard. He had no idea who the child was, so the thought of telling her he was her father was distasteful to him in that he had no wish to deceive her, no matter how much she seemed to yearn to believe he was her Papa.  
  
"I'm not your father, little one, but once I find you, I'll take you to him."  
  
"But...but you sound like my Papa. You sound just like him. The dark one said you would never come for me. But I didn't believe him, Papa. I knew you would come. And you're here, Papa. You're here!"  
  
Obi-Wan felt a sharp pang in his heart at both the fear and joy he heard in the little girl's voice.  
  
"Don't worry," he said thickly as he moved through the leaden fog. "You'll see your father soon. Now, keep talking so I can find you."  
  
Obi-Wan moved deeper into the fog, but no matter which way he went, the child's voice seemed to come to him from all directions, and he felt as if he was getting no closer to her. Suddenly, she screamed, a heart-piercing cry that ripped into Obi-Wan's heart.  
  
"No! No! Leave me alone! I don't want to listen to you anymore. I want Papa! And you lied! He's here and he's come for me." The little girl screamed again. "No, go away! Go away! Papa, help me! Please, help me!"  
  
Obi-Wan ran, his heart pounding like a drum, breath rasping harshly in his lungs as he desperately tried to find the child, her screams ripping through the fog.  
  
"Help me, Papa! Help me! He won't leave me alone!"  
  
Obi-Wan's heart stuttered. The little girl's voice faded away as if she were running deeper into the fog.  
  
He ran faster. "I'm coming, little one. I'm coming!" he shouted into the murk surrounding him.  
  
Suddenly, there was a piercing scream from the child, a final cry for her Papa, then silence.  
  
Obi-Wan stopped for a moment, the stillness thrumming around him like the tolling of some ominous bell. Then he ran, faster and harder, and he kept running until the ground dropped abruptly from beneath his feet.  
  
He felt himself falling, fast and hard, still surrounded by that thick, dense fog, still hearing the piercing shriek of that little girl crying out frantically for the father who had not come in time to save her.  
  
---------  
  
Heart pounding, sweat coating his neck and chest, Obi-Wan abruptly awoke. For a moment he just lay in his bed, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling of his quarters as he willed his heart to stop its frantic beating. A dream, he thought. It had only been a dream.  
  
He slowly sat up, noting that the tunic of his sleep clothes clung wetly to his chest. He took in and released a deep cleansing breath. Glancing over at the table chrono on the nightstand next to his bed, he saw he had slept a bit longer than he had intended. But, he'd had trouble getting to sleep last night.  
  
Rising from his bed, he padded barefoot to the fresher. Running cold water in the basin, he splashed it on his face. He didn't often have nightmares. Some Jedi claimed never to have them, but Obi-Wan doubted that. All sentient beings dreamed, and some dreams were just as likely to be horrible as pleasant.  
  
As he looked at himself in the mirror, he wondered if perhaps the Jedi had become somewhat arrogant over the past hundred years. They had kept the peace for untold generations, decades upon decades in which nothing had ever threatened the stability of the Republic. Complacency often bred arrogance, Obi-Wan reflected.  
  
Then he frowned as he recalled his dream. He had never had such a dream before. And why would he dream about a little girl who seemed to think he was her father? He had only one child, Ben. There were no other and, certainly, no more to come.  
  
Obi-Wan splashed more water on his face, then turned and left the fresher. Though the dream had deeply disturbed him, leaving him with a terrible sense of foreboding, he pushed it deep inside himself. Later, he would meditate on it because, as he tried to reassure himself, dreams were most often symbolic rather than literal.  
  
Perhaps the little girl, and whatever danger had threatened her, was an iconic representation of some deep-seated anxiety he possessed. He would find the source of the disquiet during his meditation and deal with it accordingly.  
  
Just as he was about to prepare his breakfast, his front door chimed. He answered it. Anakin was standing in the doorway, dressed in his dark Jedi outfit, his bright blue eyes wide, his hair barely combed. He rushed past Obi-Wan and into the sitting area.  
  
"What's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked, sensing his padawan's distress.  
  
"Have you watched the news this morning, Master?"  
  
"No, I just woke up. I was about to have breakfast. Would you care to join me?"  
  
Anakin brusquely shook his head. He went over to Obi-Wan's holoscreen and ordered it on.  
  
"You have to see this, Master."  
  
Anakin instructed the holoscreen to replay that morning's broadcast of _Sightings from Twang_. Obi-Wan folded his arms across his chest as he listened. Once it was done, he ordered the holoscreen off. He looked over at Anakin.  
  
"What of it?" he asked in a low, detached voice.  
  
"What of it? Master, that swill is being broadcast all over the Republic!"  
  
"I'm aware of that."  
  
"And you're not concerned?"  
  
"Why should I be? None of it is true."  
  
Anakin shook his head. "Master, I don't think you understand. It doesn't matter if it's true or not. People will believe it's true because it's what they want to believe."  
  
"Then I feel pity for such people," Obi-Wan said curtly as he turned and headed toward his bedroom.  
  
He stopped, however, when Anakin grabbed his arm.  
  
"Master, I know you too well," his padawan said earnestly. "Something like this will roll off your back like water. But what about Onara?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked up into Anakin's eyes. He had been angered and greatly disgusted by the broadcast, though he'd kept that hidden from Anakin. But, like most things in his life that displeased him, but over which he had no real control, Obi-Wan had already dismissed it from his mind. Dyslogia Twang was a vile, reprehensible purveyor of rumors and innuendoes, and if people chose to listen to and believe his rubbish, that was their problem. Obi-Wan knew the truth of what had happened between him and Onara last night.  
  
But, he also knew Anakin was right in being concerned for Onara. The repercussions for Obi-Wan were not as grave as they would be for her. She had a husband and a child, and such a scandal, no matter how unfounded or baseless it was, could hurt not only her, but Dalan and Ben.  
  
"Do you know if Onara's seen this?"  
  
"No, I don't know, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll go and see her. Wait here. I'm going to shower and change."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
But, just as Obi-Wan was about to enter the fresher, the comlink in his quarters beeped. Answering it, he saw it was a message from the Jedi Council. He read it and released a deep, heavy sigh. He looked over at Anakin.  
  
"It would appear you weren't the only one up watching the news this morning, my young Padawan. I've been summoned before the Council. I'm to appear as soon as I'm dressed."  
  
"Just you, Master?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "Just me."  
  
He stared down at the floor for a moment. "Go and see Onara," he instructed Anakin. "Tell her I'll contact her soon as I can."  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin said dutifully.  
  
Obi-Wan turned and went into the fresher.  
  
To be continued.... 


	10. Part Ten

Stars in the Darkness - Part Ten  
  
--------------  
  
As Anakin took the lift up to Onara's penthouse, he wondered what was happening with Obi-Wan back at the Temple. He had not wanted to leave his master, even if he himself had not been summoned before the Council, but he would do as Obi-Wan instructed and see to Onara. He wondered if she'd seen the broadcast yet. His fists clenching as he waited for the lift to finally arrive at Onara's floor, he amused himself by imagining various ways he could use the Force to torment Twang.  
  
The lift finally stopped. Anakin pressed the chime of the penthouse's door. It opened, revealing Keria whose bright blue eyes widened when she saw who it was.  
  
"Master Anakin," she stammered, a blush suffusing her smooth cheeks.  
  
"Hello, Keria. May I please see Onara...I mean, Senator Lenor?"  
  
"Of course. Please, come in," Keria said breathlessly, waving Anakin in.  
  
He walked past her and into the sitting area. There were boxes scattered about the room, though it looked as if Keria had been in the middle of unpacking some of them.  
  
"Milady is still sleeping, I think, but I'll let her know you're here."  
  
Keria turned and walked towards the rear of the apartment. Anakin was about to tell her not to awaken Onara, since he'd had no idea she would still be sleeping, but he thought it best she find out about Twang's broadcast as soon as possible.  
  
Keria soon returned, Onara accompanying her. Anakin swallowed hard and found himself recalling the first time he had ever seen her. Initially it at been at her wedding banquet, when she had been married to Dynast Edress, that walking bucket of slime. But then she'd been swathed in layers and layers of veils and robes.  
  
Later, he had finally seen her unveiled when he'd been required to escort her to the wedding chamber where Obi-Wan had been waiting so the two of them could participate in the Ahjane blessing ceremony. A ceremony Obi-Wan had reluctantly agreed to go along with, but had resisted actively participating in.  
  
However, although Anakin never learned what happened between Onara and Obi- Wan that night, the two had fallen in love and had, as a result of Onara's grandmother's scheming, conceived a child; their son, Ben.  
  
Now, as Onara walked towards him, tying a peach satin morning robe around her slender waist, her dark hair tousled about her neck, her equally dark eyes regarding him sleepily, he was struck by the resemblance between her and Padmé, although Onara was a tad taller, her hair and eyes more black than dark brown, and her features a bit more voluptuous.  
  
"Anakin. What a pleasant surprise," she said as she walked over to him, a wide smile on her face.  
  
Anakin bowed to her, than took the hand she offered. She squeezed it warmly, gazing up at him with affection. He had spent nearly every day of the month Obi-Wan had gone in search of Sinja-Bau in her company and looked upon her as the sister he'd never had.  
  
"Good morning, milady. I'm sorry to have wakened you, but Master Obi-Wan asked me to come and see you."  
  
A look of alarm flared in Onara's eyes. "Obi-Wan? Is he all right?"  
  
Anakin found it curious that, as far as he knew, he hadn't yet given any indication Obi-Wan was having problems, but Onara already seemed to sense it.  
  
"I think he might be in trouble with the Jedi Council."  
  
"Trouble? What kind of trouble?"  
  
Anakin quickly told Onara about Dyslogia Twang's report that morning on the HoloNet News concerning her and Obi-Wan. He then told her Obi-Wan had been summoned to appear before the Council.  
  
"He also wanted me to tell you," Anakin went on, "he'd contact you as soon as he could."  
  
Onara sat slowly on the couch. Keria who had been listening to all Anakin said with wide eyes, sat next to her and took her hand.  
  
"Are you all right, milady?"  
  
"Keria," Onara said in a low, slow voice. "Turn on the holoscreen and find that broadcast."  
  
Keria looked over at Anakin and he saw she didn't know how to work the holoscreen yet.  
  
"I'll do it, Lady Onara," he offered.  
  
He saw a faint smile flit across Onara's lips at his use of the title, but her dark eyes were cloudy. As Anakin ordered the holoscreen on and directed it to repeat Twang's broadcast, he thought to himself he certainly didn't feel comfortable just calling her Onara anymore. She was a Senator of the Republic after all.  
  
Then Anakin frowned darkly as Twang's fat face appeared on the holoscreen. And, although he'd already viewed the broadcast twice, it made him just as angry and very embarrassed for Onara.  
  
She, however, like his master, only watched impassively as Twang spewed out his garbage, the only sign it was affecting her a tightening of her fingers around Keria's hand. Once the broadcast was done, Anakin quickly ordered the holoscreen off.  
  
For a moment there was only silence in the sitting area. Keria glanced over at Anakin, her blue eyes worried. He saw that, like him, she was very much aware of what the consequences could be for her mistress, no matter how untrue Twang's statements were. Onara continued to sit quietly. Then she slipped her hand from Keria's. She looked over at Anakin.  
  
"And you think Obi-Wan's summons before the Council this morning has to do with this...this..." and Onara gestured brusquely at the holoscreen, a flitter of distaste crossing her lovely face, "this..."  
  
She stopped, her voice clearly betraying her agitation, her throat working.  
  
"Yes, I do," Anakin answered. "Master Obi-Wan thought so too."  
  
"Do you think he's before them now?"  
  
Anakin nodded. "They wanted him to appear as soon as he was dressed."  
  
A frown creased Onara's forehead. "And the HoloNet News? That goes out all over the Republic, correct?"  
  
Anakin nodded. Onara looked over at Keria.  
  
"Do you recall when Dalan said he was going to have the connection to the HoloNet installed in the manor?"  
  
"I think this week, milady."  
  
Onara nodded slowly. She stood and walked over to Anakin. Stopping in front of him she looked up into his face, her dark eyes burning with what Anakin could see was barely suppressed rage.  
  
"Would you do me a favor, Anakin?," she asked, her voice tight and hard.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Find out where this...this creature's lair is, arrange transport to it and accompany me there."  
  
For a moment Anakin was too stunned to speak because, as Onara had spoken, he'd had a sudden flashback of his encounters with the Lady Tsara, Onara's grandmother. As formidable and terrible a being as Anakin had ever met, the elderly woman had been capable of cowering the most stout-hearted of men. Even him.  
  
Though Onara was far more beautiful and kind-hearted than that dried up witch had ever been, Anakin also realized she was Tsara's granddaughter, and the old kryat dragon's blood pulsed through her veins. Perhaps not the cruelty and vile ambition the old hag had possessed, but certainly the strength and tenacity of will.  
  
Then, realizing what Onara intended to do, he grinned down at her, barely stopping himself from rubbing his hands in glee. Onara, her small chin raised, the fire in her eyes echoing his, gave him a tiny smile in response to his obvious approval of her intentions.  
  
"Right away, milady," he said briskly.  
  
"Thank you, Anakin." She cocked her head as she gazed up at him. "Have you eaten, dear?"  
  
Anakin suddenly realized he'd hadn't. He had rushed to see Obi-Wan and then over to Onara's. Before he could say a word, however, his stomach growled loudly. Onara gave him a soft smile and touched his arm.  
  
"Keria will bring you something." She looked over at the blonde girl. "Once you've taken care of Anakin, please come and help me."  
  
Keria curtsied. Onara turned and walked back to her bedroom. Keria looked over at Anakin.  
  
"I've never seen her that way before. No, that's not true," she said quickly. "There was the horrible night of the storm when Master Dalan had been drinking, and he and Lady Onara had that terrible fight, and Master Dalan accused her of..."  
  
Keria stopped, a blush turning her face bright red.  
  
"I...I'll get you something to eat, Master Anakin," she said, turning quickly to go into the kitchen.  
  
As Anakin watched her leave he frowned, mulling over what Keria had let slip about Dalan and Onara. He'd never much thought about whether Onara was happy in her marriage. He suspected she still loved Obi-Wan as deeply as his master still loved her, but both of them had chosen to honor their vows; Obi-Wan's to the Jedi Order, and Onara's to her people and her husband.  
  
Anakin mentally shrugged. As Obi-Wan would have gently reminded him if he was present, it wasn't his business. Then he grinned and this time he did slap his hands together and rub them gleefully. If what he had deduced about Onara was true, that she was going to pull a Lady Tsara, fat-headed Twang had no clue as to what was about to descend upon him.  
  
Anakin continued to grin as he walked over to use Onara's comm-station and arrange transport for them to Twang's office.  
  
----------  
  
Obi-Wan stood, his arms folded within the sleeves of his robe, his legs apart, in the center of the Jedi Council Chamber. Many a time over the last twenty years he had stood here; ten of those years as Padawan to Master Qui- Gon and the rest as master to Anakin. Most of his appearances had been perfunctory; receiving assignments, answering questions from the Council regarding what had or had not happened on a mission, discussions on the state of the Republic, deliberations regarding the Jedi Order and its continuing role in the galaxy, but this appearance, Obi-Wan had decided, would have to go down in his book as the most preposterous of all.  
  
The morning light streamed in through the large glass windows, highlighting the backs of the eight members of the Council who were in attendance. Obi- Wan assumed that because the meeting had been called so quickly, those members of the Council who were away from Coruscant were unable to return in time. But there were enough present for a quorum and any action taken by the Council today would be legally valid. Those Jedi not in attendance were Adi Galia, Even Piell, Plo Koon and Mace Windu.  
  
However, Oppo Rancisis, whom Obi-Wan knew was the one who had requested this, what he termed, _emergency_ meeting of the Council was in attendance, along with Yoda, Shaak Ti, Sasee Tiin, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Depa Billaba, Coleman Trebor and Eeth Koth. Obi-Wan also knew the majority of those now present were also those who had voted for him to be sent to Bestine as a way of addressing his having strayed from the Jedi Path by having conceived a child with Onara.  
  
As Obi-Wan continued to stand and wait for Yoda to officially begin the meeting, he let his gaze move beyond the faces of the Council to the towering spires of Coruscant. Although he knew he could not see from here the building which housed her apartment, he sent his thoughts out to Onara, hoping Anakin had arrived in time to at least be with her when she finally saw Twang's broadcast. Then, thinking of her, he thought of their son, Ben, and his gift. A small smile ruffled the Jedi Knight's lips. He had hung the framed picture of Ben's drawing on the wall of his bedroom so it would be the first thing he saw upon wakening.  
  
However, disturbed by the dream he'd had about the frightened little girl in the fog, he had been too distressed to notice it. But, after he'd finished dressing and had been putting on his robe to leave for the Council chamber, he'd stopped and looked at it.  
  
Like most young children's drawing, the figures in it were somewhat out of proportion. Obi-Wan's lightsaber was nearly twice as long as he and Ben had colored it purple instead of blue. But it wasn't how his son had drawn the picture that endeared it to Obi-Wan's heart. It was the fact he had, and that he at least knew of Obi-Wan, even if only as a character in the stories Onara told him.  
  
His smile deepening as he continued to stare out the chamber's windows, Obi- Wan recalled Ben's childish scrawl, the charmingly misspelled words and the tender reference to himself as Obi-Wan's good friend. He hoped it would be so, and he couldn't wait until Ben finally came to Coruscant. He looked forward to that day very much.  
  
"I don't know what you're smiling about, Knight Kenobi."  
  
A high, nasal voice cut through Obi-Wan's reverie like a knife through flesh.  
  
"This is a very serious matter," it went on in an irritated tone.  
  
Obi-Wan quickly drew his gaze away from the windows and focused his attention back on the Council. He had to turn slightly to look into the shaggy face of Master Oppo Rancisis since, as was customary, he had been facing Master Yoda's seat. The Thisspian was glaring at Obi-Wan through the long white hair that covered his face, his gnarly, long clawed hands folded over his serpentine body. Obi-Wan was about to tell Master Oppo just what he thought of his so-called serious matter, but Yoda's voice carried across the room as he addressed Oppo.  
  
"Begun this meeting, I have not," he intoned.  
  
Oppo leaned forward. "I understand that, Master Yoda. But someone should convey to Knight Kenobi that although he may think what's happened is something to be taken lightly, we certainly do not."  
  
"It is rare, Master Oppo," Obi-Wan said, "that I take anything the Council focuses its attention on lightly." Then he turned and faced Oppo full- square. "Until now," he added archly.  
  
Even under the hair that covered his face, Obi-Wan could see Oppo was almost apoplectic with anger. The Thisspian leaned farther over his serpent body but, before he could say a word, Yoda clapped his hands sharply.  
  
"Enough! Master Oppo. Called this meeting you did, but run it I will."  
  
Oppo looked sharply over at Yoda, but inclined his head and leaned back against his chair. Obi-Wan turned back to Yoda.  
  
"Master Obi-Wan," the Jedi Master stated, "before this Council you have been called at the request of Master Oppo. Concerned he is regarding a broadcast made this morning by Dsylogia Twang on the HoloNet News. Aware of this are you?"  
  
"Aware of Twang's broadcast or aware of Master Oppo's concerns? Neither, I must say, have much occupied my thoughts."  
  
"What insolence!" Oppo shouted from behind Obi-Wan.  
  
"Master Oppo. Please. Silent you will be until finished I have."  
  
Yoda then turned his sharp gaze at Obi-Wan.  
  
"And you, Master Obi-Wan," he warned. "Best I think if not your former master you try to emulate."  
  
A corner of Obi-Wan's mouth curled up. Master Qui-Gon had been notorious for defying the Council. As his apprentice, Obi-Wan had often chided his master for doing so, but today he couldn't help but wish his old master were here with him. Not so much for comfort, but for pointers. Defying the Council was not something Obi-Wan was accustomed or prone to doing, but he couldn't quell the slow-rising irritation he was beginning to feel the longer he stood here. He knew why he'd been summoned and it was making him angrier the more he dwelled on it.  
  
"Yes, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said, inclining his head.  
  
Yoda acknowledged Obi-Wan's obeisance. "Now, again I will ask. Aware are you of broadcast this morning concerning you and Senator Lenor?"  
  
"Yes, Master Yoda."  
  
"And what have you to say about it?" Master Oppo interjected.  
  
Obi-Wan then saw Yoda do something he'd never seen the little Jedi Master ever do before: he rolled his large green eyes. If the situation, despite its preposterousness, wasn't also quite serious, Obi-Wan would have burst out laughing. He waited to see if Yoda had anything further to say, but the Jedi Master remained silent. Obi-Wan suppressed a sigh. Oh, well, let's be at it. He turned to Oppo.  
  
"I have nothing to say about it," he said to the Thisspian.  
  
"And why not?" Oppo cried.  
  
"Because, Master Oppo, I make it a habit not to comment on things that are not only beneath comment, beneath contemplation, but also beneath contempt. As a rule I, at least, tend to keep my focus on issues of far more substance."  
  
"What are you trying to say, Knight Kenobi?" Oppo accused him.  
  
"I am not _trying_ to say anything, Master Oppo. I stated, and I thought rather clearly, what I intended to say. And, as Master Yoda has often said, there is no such thing as try."  
  
Obi-Wan thought he heard what sounded like a low-throated snicker from behind him, but thought it best not to draw his attention away from Oppo. The Thisspian, however, cast a belligerent glare behind Obi-Wan, then turned back to him.  
  
"Be that as it may, I believe what you are saying is that this matter regarding you and Senator Lenor is of no great weight."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Master Oppo, but you are quite wrong."  
  
Oppo's tiny, yellow-rimmed eyes widened beneath his shaggy white hair. "What? How dare you!"  
  
"What is between myself and Senator Lenor is of great weight. She is, as you are well aware, the mother of my child and that, I can assure you, is of no small matter. At least to me."  
  
"That is not what we are here to discuss," Oppo stated firmly.  
  
"Isn't it?" Obi-Wan responded quietly.  
  
"No, it is not. And, since you have apparently given up all claim to this child, as it should be, why you would still be concerned with him is beyond me."  
  
"Do you have any children, Master Oppo?"  
  
The Thisspian sputtered. "Of course I don't! And what that has to do with what we are here to discuss I don't---"  
  
"I have given up all claim to my son as you have stated," Obi-Wan said, interrupting Oppo, "but he is still my child. My blood runs through his veins and his flesh is my flesh. And, as long as he lives, nothing will change that. He will always be my son, no matter whom he now calls father."  
  
"And, in light of this, Master Obi-Wan, are you quite clear as to where your loyalty now lies?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked in his melodious voice.  
  
Obi-Wan turned and looked over at the Cerean Jedi. He found it ironic Master Ki would question him on such a thing. Although very much an adherent to the Jedi philosophy, Ki had also followed the Cerean custom of polygamous marriage. He had a bond wife named Shea and four honor wives. He was also the father of seven daughters. His family resided on Cerea and, as far as Obi-Wan knew, had never visited Coruscant.  
  
"Yes, Master Ki," Obi-Wan said. "I am quite clear as to where my loyalty lies. With the Jedi Order. As it has always been."  
  
"I don't believe you," Oppo cried. "That woman hasn't been on this planet a week and you rush to her side like a love-sick boy. It is clear to me your six months of retreat on Bestine did you no good, Knight Kenobi."  
  
Obi-Wan turned to Oppo, a muscle in his jaw jumping.  
  
"That _woman_" he said tersely, "has a name. It is Onara Lenor, senator from the sovereign system of Ahjane."  
  
Oppo raised a long-clawed hand and pointed it at Obi-Wan. "Yes, which makes both of your transgressions even more inexcusable. By the ancestors, what were you thinking going off with her like that? You would think she at least would know better, considering her position, both as a senator of the Republic and a married woman. But you, Knight Kenobi! You are a Jedi, a representative of this august Order. Your actions are not your own. Everything you say and do reflects on us all."  
  
Obi-Wan struggled to control the anger rising within him. He firmed his jaw and willed his voice to retain a level tone.  
  
"I am aware of that, Master Oppo. However, I was not aware members of this Council paid attention to gossip and rumors."  
  
"Gossip and rumors," Oppo repeated. He leaned forward. "Do you deny leaving the party with Senator Lenor?"  
  
"No, I do not deny that."  
  
"Do you deny going back with her to her apartment?"  
  
"No, I do not deny that either."  
  
"What is this? An inquisition?" Master Depa Billaba suddenly asked, her beautiful dark eyes flashing as she looked irritably over at Oppo. "Anyone can see this...this Twang person was just spreading his usual manure of innuendoes and half-truths. Personally, I don't see why we are even here."  
  
"We are here, Master Billaba," Oppo said, "because whatever we may thing of Dsylogia Twang, billions of Republic citizens hang on his every word. And those citizens, in turn, vote to elect representatives to the Republic Senate, and it is to that Senate we must answer."  
  
"Not true, Master Oppo," Yoda said, his hands folded under his chin. "To the Force and..." and he stopped and looked directly at Obi-Wan, "...to our own hearts we must answer first. Then to the Republic Senate we turn our thoughts."  
  
Oppo waved his hand brusquely as if Yoda were only splitting hairs.  
  
"That does not change a thing," he said. "It is clear Knight Kenobi still harbors an unseemly passion for this woman and, as a result, the Jedi Order's reputation has been besmirched by his actions."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head in disbelief.  
  
"By Twang?" he cried, his voice clearly betraying his astonishment at Oppo's statement. "The Jedi Order has existed for thousands of years. You can't be serious in thinking the pathetic rants of an equally pathetic being like Twang is going to undo all of that?"  
  
Oppo fixed Obi-Wan with a penetrating gaze. "These are perilous times, Knight Kenobi. Things are falling apart in the Republic, and the Jedi are hard-pressed to keep it together. Our support among many of the Senators is waning, the very citizens we have sworn to protect are turning against us, and there is the growing threat of systems breaking away from the Republic. The last thing we need is for a Jedi of your standing, a master to an apprentice no less, to be indulging your...your carnal lusts!"  
  
A rush of blood surged through Obi-Wan's brain and, for a moment, all he saw was a haze of red. He willed himself to relax, taking in deep, calming breaths.  
  
"That is not what I was doing with Senator Lenor," he finally said, his voice tight, but still level.  
  
"Then what were you doing with her?" Oppo pressed him.  
  
"That is between us."  
  
"It is most certainly not," Oppo snapped. "It stopped being between the two of you when it was broadcast across the galaxy. We did not ask you to draw us down into the sewers with you, Knight Kenobi, but draw us you have."  
  
"Master Oppo," Yoda interjected sharply. "Stop this you will. Why Master Obi-Wan with Senator Lenor left the party is, as he says, between him and her. What we are here to discuss and decide upon is---"  
  
"No!" Oppo cried heatedly. "I want Knight Kenobi to tell us why he can't seem to stay away from that woman."  
  
"Because I love her!" Obi-Wan shouted, his voice echoing in the room and in the stunned silence that followed.  
  
He drew in a deep breath, both shocked and, surprisingly, relieved he had finally spoken those words in this chamber. Two years ago he had wanted to say them, but had not. He looked over at Yoda. The Jedi Master's expression had not changed, and his large leaf-green eyes stared calmly back at Obi- Wan.  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan said, his head high as he addressed the Council. "I love Senator Lenor. I love her more than I can find words to express. Her name is the breath of my body, her face the pulse of my heart, and if the universe were to grow dark, cold and lifeless around me and she and my child were all that remained, I would still know joy unbounded."  
  
Obi-Wan paused, his gaze traveling slowly around the Council. He looked at each of them, not concerning himself with what they were thinking or how they felt regarding his words. He only wanted them to know that what he was about to say was the utmost truth of his heart.  
  
"But, I am also a Jedi Knight. And, as I have stated earlier, I know exactly where my loyalty lies. It is with this Order. I will serve it, faithfully and absolutely, as I have done since I was a child. But..." and Obi-Wan stopped, his brows drawing deep over his eyes as he swung his gaze swiftly around the chamber. "...what is in my heart shall remain in my heart. No man, no woman, no being and, yes, no group, shall be privy to what lies within it unless I desire it. I have told you of my feelings for Senator Lenor. But, I have also told you that my first and foremost allegiance is to the Jedi Order. And that, my esteemed members of the Council, is all I will say regarding this matter."  
  
Following Obi-Wan's words, the silence in the chamber stretched until it filled the entire room. Obi-Wan stood within it, like a butterfly trapped in amber, but he felt only peace. Whatever happens now, he thought, he had not been false, either to himself or concerning his feelings for Onara.  
  
"Master Obi-Wan," Yoda said, breaking the silence like the sun's rays cutting through layers of ice.  
  
"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan replied.  
  
"Excused you are. Upon this matter we will now deliberate."  
  
Obi-Wan bowed deeply to Yoda. He turned and, his robe flying out behind him, strode quickly from the chamber. Once he was in the corridor and the massive chamber doors had closed behind him, he released a deep breath. Nice going, Kenobi, he chided himself.  
  
As he made his way to the lift that would take him to the lower levels of the Temple, he wondered if he'd be able to get back the room he'd had at the chapterhouse on Bestine. Its window had faced the east, the rising of the planet's two suns waking him in the morning and in the evening a soft breeze had swept in, rich with the scent of the ocean and the singing of the Pili, lulling him to a restful sleep. He hoped so. He had a feeling he was going to be traveling there soon.  
  
Then again, he mused, as the lift's doors opened and he stepped inside, perhaps this time the Council would not be so magnanimous. As the lift sped downwards, he wondered if there was much work for ex-Jedi Knights in the galaxy.  
  
To be continued... 


	11. Part Eleven

Stars in the Darkness - Part Eleven  
  
-------------  
  
As the air taxi in which Onara and Anakin were passengers sped dizzyingly through the lines of speeder traffic and among the towering skyscrapers, Anakin glanced over at Onara. She wore a long-waisted gown of ebony satin edged in gold. Her hair was up and hidden under the hood of a long black cloak which was fastened at the throat with a rather elaborate silver jeweled clasp. Her only other piece of jewelry besides the clasp were two pearl drop earrings and slender bracelets of silver and onyx. Again, although Onara looked nothing like that battle-ax Lady Tsara, Anakin couldn't help but think of her because the old dragon had always worn black.  
  
Onara, noting him looking at her, turned her head and gave him a wan smile. He sensed she wasn't looking forward to this confrontation. He didn't blame her. As far as he knew, no one had ever dared challenge Twang about his malicious gossip, something Anakin had never understood. The man was a twit, and he should have been shut up, kicked off the HoloNet, or banished to the Outer Rim a long time ago, but for as long as Anakin had lived on Coruscant, and beyond that, Twang had been spewing out his garbage and the public had lapped it up like galoomps at the trough. He mulled over that, then their driver, a Bimm, made a sudden sharp left, throwing Anakin hard against Onara. The Bimm sang something that sounded like an apology. Onara shook her head.  
  
"I still can't use to traveling like this," she said, looking out at the traffic whizzing past them.  
  
"You will," Anakin assured her.  
  
"Did it take you long?"  
  
Anakin shrugged. "No, but I used to race pods, and let me tell you compared to that, this is nothing."  
  
Onara smiled at him. "I've never seen a pod race."  
  
"They don't have many of them in the Core Worlds, but there's one on Malastare that's pretty big."  
  
"Do you still race?"  
  
"No, Master Obi-Wan won't let me. I think he's worried I'll get hurt or something and, well, it's not a very Jedi-like thing to do."  
  
Onara's face grew solemn. "No, I suppose not."  
  
Anakin knew she was recalling their conversation in her bedroom before they'd left her apartment. After Anakin had finished breakfast and Keria had gone in to help Onara get dressed, he had wandered around the sitting area as he waited, looking at the artwork and sculptures Onara had brought with her from Ahjane.  
  
One in particular had caught his attention. It was a statuette of a man and woman, both attractive, both young, their arms clasped rather suggestively about the other. He had been staring at it, thinking of Padmé when Keria had startled him by suddenly appearing at his side.  
  
"That's Romal and Juvia," she told him.  
  
Anakin, who was blushing furiously at having been caught gawking at it, quickly cleared his throat.  
  
"Oh, really," he said nonchalantly, although his heart was thumping at he continued to gaze at the statuette.  
  
Keria nodded. "They're Ahjane's most famous lovers. It's said that on their wedding night they prayed for the sun not to rise and it didn't. Not for an entire week."  
  
Anakin cleared his throat again for he suddenly felt quite warm and was also conscious of a great many things. Like, for example, how sweet Keria's perfume was. She looked up at him smiling, her blue eyes speculative as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.  
  
"Milady wants to see you. She's in her bedroom," she finally said after staring at him for a moment.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Anakin turned and moved quickly away from Keria who was still watching him with that knowing smile on her lush, pink lips. He entered Onara's bedroom. She was standing in front of the mirror of her dressing bureau, looking over the black gown she had put on. When she saw Anakin she smiled warmly.  
  
"Come in, dear," she said, noting he was standing awkwardly in the doorway. "I promise, I won't bite."  
  
"No, it's not that. I just don't make it a habit of entering a lady's bedroom," he remarked with a laugh as he walked further into the room.  
  
Onara arched a delicate, dark brow. "Really? You disappoint me, Anakin. A handsome young man like you, I would think, would be well-acquainted with a great many ladies' bedrooms."  
  
Just as Anakin was about to protest that was most certainly not the case, he saw by Onara's expression she was only teasing him. He ducked his head and gave her a sheepish grin.  
  
"I asked you to come here because I want to show you something," she said.  
  
Anakin walked closer to her. She reached over and picked up a gold-framed picture from off the bureau.  
  
"I wanted you to see this picture of Ben. You haven't seen him since he was a baby."  
  
Anakin took the photograph when Onara handed it to him.  
  
"That's Ben?" he cried incredulously. "Why he looks just like...." Anakin stopped, glancing anxiously over at Onara.  
  
"Yes, except for the color of his hair, he looks exactly like Obi-Wan, doesn't he? Or how I imagine Obi-Wan would have looked at that age."  
  
Anakin nodded. He hadn't realized enough time had passed for Ben to get so big.  
  
"Well, he's certainly a good-looking kid, and he's dressed pretty snazzy too," he added with a grin.  
  
Onara smiled gently. "That was Dalan's idea. He wanted Ben painted in the traditional attire of a Dynast."  
  
"Oh, wow, I'd forgotten that. Ben is heir to your province."  
  
"And to Dalan's also."  
  
Anakin continued to stare down at Ben's portrait. He recalled that Master Eo had said Ben had a very high midichlorian count, high enough to have made him eligible to enter the Jedi Order, but both Obi-Wan and Onara had agreed to let him remain with his mother.  
  
Despite the rather serious look on his face, Anakin could tell by the impish light in those bright blue-gray eyes that Ben was a happy child so, he supposed, the right decision had been made. He looked over at Onara, but was taken aback by her expression. Her dark eyes were wide and full as she gazed up at him.  
  
"Anakin, I wanted you to see Ben's picture because I want you to know how much he means to me." She reached over and put her hand on his arm, gripping it tightly. "I would die to protect my son, Anakin. And I would kill too."  
  
Anakin's eyes widened in shock and he almost dropped Ben's portrait. Noting his expression, Onara laughed.  
  
"No, no, dear, I'm not going to kill Twang. Though, goddess knows, I wouldn't mind seeing him have a rather nasty accident. No, what I mean is that I will do whatever I have to do to protect my son, to protect my husband and to protect Obi-Wan. Do you understand what I'm saying?"  
  
Anakin had a feeling he did, but he wasn't quite sure and one thing, among the vast number of things Master Obi-Wan had taught him over the years, was to be as certain as he could about everything, and to make every effort not to decide or act without being clear as to exactly what he was getting himself into. Therefore, he shook his head no in answer to Onara's question. She smiled in understanding and, taking the portrait of Ben from Anakin, held it and looked down at it.  
  
"Someday, when you have children of your own," and she glanced up as Anakin briskly shook his head no. "I'm sorry. I forgot. Well, let me put it this way. How far would you go to protect Obi-Wan?"  
  
"How far? As far as it took," Anakin answered firmly.  
  
"Even if it took you to some rather dark places?"  
  
Anakin hesitated. Master Obi-Wan was always warning him about the dark side of the Force and, since Obi-Wan himself had called upon it once in order to save Onara's life, his master was well-acquainted with its dangers. Then Anakin frowned and firmed his jaw as he recalled the look on Obi-Wan's face when he'd read the message that morning summoning him to appear before the Council.  
  
"Yes, even if it took me to dark places, I would do what I had to do to protect him."  
  
"Just as I would to protect those that I love. This Twang person is a minor fish in a rather large ocean, Anakin. Hardly worthy of notice, no matter what he may think of himself. And any other time I would give him no more passing thought than I would the fleas that infest the fur of a rat scurrying about in an alley. But he must not be allowed to get away with this."  
  
Anakin agreed wholeheartedly with that. Although Master Obi-Wan was able to see the gradations and nuances in situations, willing to concede that, even if on the surface an act appeared reprehensible, there could be unknown and extenuating circumstances that had given rise to it, Anakin was a bit more dogmatic in his ideology.  
  
There was right and there was wrong. Pure and simple. What Twang had done was wrong, and when someone did something wrong they had to be made to suffer the consequences or else you'd have nothing but chaos and anarchy. And Anakin could not abide chaos or anarchy. He stood at attention, his arms crossed behind his back.  
  
"What would you have me do, Lady Onara?" he asked, pitching his voice to try and resemble Obi-Wan's.  
  
Onara shook her head and smiled. "First, stop calling me Lady Onara. I'm not that much older than you, but you're making me feel like an old lady."  
  
Anakin laughed and spoke in his own voice. "Okay. What else?"  
  
Onara put Ben's portrait back on the bureau, biting her lip.  
  
"I'm...I'm not sure. It will depend upon how reasonable this Twang person is. But, if I should have need of you---"  
  
Anakin gave her a sharp, courtly bow. "Fear not, milady. I shall do whatever you command." He gave a wry grin. "That is, as long as it doesn't involve beheading, dismemberment or disembowelment. Not that I wouldn't want to in this case, of course, but I am a Jedi after all."  
  
Onara slapped him playfully on the arm. Turning around she took a long black cloak from the closet and put it on. When the two of them went into the sitting area, the front door chimed. Keria answered it, escorting in what looked to Anakin like a courier. The slender male humanoid bowed to Onara as she walked over, handing her a small package  
  
"Good, it got here in time," Onara said as she opened it, taking out a silver jeweled clasp. She examined it. "I was afraid it wouldn't."  
  
The messenger tilted his head as he also looked at the jewel. "Normally we wouldn't have been able to comply since you only requested it an hour ago but, fortunately, we tend to have such items in stock."  
  
One of Onara's brows rose sharply. "Indeed," she remarked as Keria helped her fasten the jewel to her cloak.  
  
Once it was on, she took a credit chit from inside her cloak and handed it to the courier. He bowed and left. Onara had then turned to Anakin and asked if he was ready and, with that, they left the apartment and hired an air taxi. Now, as the taxi began its descent to the building where Twang's office was located, Anakin wondered exactly what Onara had in mind.  
  
-----------------  
  
Finding Twang's office in the multi-level building was not difficult. After searching through a holographic floor listing, Anakin and Onara took a lift from the roof, where the air taxis landed, down to his floor. As they rode in the lift, it suddenly occurred to Anakin that Twang might not even be in his office. It was, after all, the first day of the week's end. He was about to inform Onara of that, but the lift had stopped. The doors slid open and Onara marched through it and into a wide reception area. It appeared to be deserted. A receptionist's desk, a wide, curving monstrosity made of gold-flecked ebony sat in front of a large wood-framed double-door. Anakin looked around.  
  
"Onara, it doesn't look like any---"  
  
But Onara had already moved past the receptionist's desk and over to the door behind it. She opened it and stepped inside, Anakin rushing to catch up with her.  
  
Inside the room the late morning sun streamed in through large glass windows. Elaborately and gaudily decorated, the spacious room reminded Anakin of Twang, for it was just as boisterous and tasteless with its wild, clashing colors, chunky, plush couches and vulgar paintings. And sitting behind the wide, showy desk was Twang himself.  
  
Anakin, who had been certain he would not be there was so startled to see him, his mouth dropped open, and he saw his expression mirrored on Twang's thick face.  
  
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he demanded in his high-pitched voice.  
  
Onara moved across the room until she was standing just in front of Twang's desk.  
  
"Interesting that you don't seem to know who I am though you are certainly free enough with my name. I am Senator Onara Lenor."  
  
Twang's broad, fat face wrinkled. "So?"  
  
Anakin, who had moved up next to Onara, glared at Twang. "Don't remember me either, huh?"  
  
"Should I?"  
  
"Anakin Skywalker. Now do you remember?"  
  
Twang shrugged. Anakin saw he had been going through some datacards on his desk, tossing them into different piles.  
  
"Look, if you came here for an autograph, you'll have to come back some other time. As you can see I'm quite busy."  
  
The blood pounded in Anakin's head. An autograph! He was just about to tell Twang just what he could do with his Sith-blasted autograph, but he felt Onara reach over and put her hand gently on the sleeve of his tunic. He looked down at her and saw by the look in her eyes she wanted him to let her handle this. Gladly, Anakin thought, because the last thing Master Obi- Wan needed right now was for Anakin to be brought up on murder charges. Onara turned back to Twang who was still busily sorting through his datacards.  
  
"Master Twang," Onara began, Anakin clearly hearing the sarcasm in her voice. "Trust me, what I want of you won't take much of your time."  
  
"Really," Twang replied, not looking up from his datacard shuffling. "And what might that be?"  
  
"An apology and a retraction of the slanderous statements you made this morning regarding myself and Master Kenobi. I want both the apology and the retraction to air, today, on the HoloNet News."  
  
Twang, who had been just about to throw one of the datacards into a trash receptacle behind him, turned slowly around and looked over at Onara. He stared at her, then burst out laughing, his great bulk shuddering in the chair. Anakin clenched his fists as Twang kept laughing, but Onara seem unfazed. She only stared coolly at Twang until, wiping tears from his fat face, he finally stopped.  
  
"All right, you've had your fun. Now, the two of you, get out of here."  
  
"I'm not leaving until I get what I want," Onara said.  
  
Twang looked up. His jovial expression, the one he always seemed to have when he gave his broadcasts, suddenly vanished. He gave Onara a dark look that caused all of Anakin's defensive instincts to switch on full alert.  
  
"Who, by the stinking pit of Galdar, do you think you are, little lady?" Twang cried. "I'm Dyslogia Twang. Nobody, and I mean nobody, tells me what to do. Certainly not some skinny, bug-eyed hussy from the galactic boondocks. Now, take that straw-headed scarecrow with you and get out of my office."  
  
Anakin was again about to launch himself across the desk, his hands already around Twang's thick throat but, again, Onara reached over and put her hand on his arm. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down the front of her gown and delicately adjusted the jeweled clasp at the neck of her cloak.  
  
"Is that your final word on the matter?" she asked in a low, calm voice.  
  
"Final, last and concluding word," Twang spat as he went back to sorting through his datacards. "Now, before I really get mad, get out of here!"  
  
Onara stared at Twang for just a moment and, as she did, she suddenly seemed to grow larger. Not in stature or size, but in her presence within the room. Moving so swiftly she took Anakin by surprise, she walked around Twang's desk and, flinging her arm across it, scattered his datacards on the floor. Twang sprang from his chair, his tiny, pink beady eyes widening as much as they could in the folds of flesh on his face as he stared down at Onara.  
  
"You pathetic pile of pus," Onara raged. "How dare you speak to me in that manner! I am a senator of the Republic, whereas you are nothing but the scum beneath the rusted lid of a reeking can of garbage!"  
  
Anakin's mouth dropped open because, as Onara spoke, he was, once again, reminded of Lady Tsara. Onara's voice had even deepened a bit, matching the vehemence and the ferocity her grandmother had displayed when she was alive.  
  
"I see through you, Twang," Onara went on, her dark eyes burning. "I see through insects like you as clearly as I see through glass. Deep down inside you're nothing but a frightened, terrified little bug, because you know the people you slander and malign are far better than you, and you... you're not even fit to wipe their boots!"  
  
Twang's tiny nose quivered and Anakin saw he was about to retort, but Onara gave him no quarter. Although he was at least two feet taller than her and outweighed her by several kilos, she showed no fear of him.  
  
"But what do you do in light of that? Do you, like any decent person, try to find and correct your faults? No, of course not. That would take brains, courage and confidence. No, you hide your fear and your richly deserved sense of inadequacy by spreading lies and innuendoes about the very people you yearn to be. You try and destroy a good and decent man's reputation like Master Kenobi's because you're not good and decent yourself and never will be."  
  
Again, Anakin saw Twang trying to respond, but Onara would not let up.  
  
"I've seen your kind before," she sneered, nodding briskly, now close enough to Twang she stood toe to toe with him. "We even have scum like you on Ahjane, backward and provincial as we might be. But there we do not suffer creatures such as you gladly, nor do we abide them easily. You have slandered a good man's reputation and possibly harmed both my husband and my child, and I will not stand aside and let you get away with it."  
  
Anakin felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. Onara's dark, lovely eyes were blazing and her face was that of an avenging goddess, terrible and beautiful, and he saw that what she'd said to him at her apartment was true. If anyone, or anything, dared to threaten or harm those that she loved, she would be merciless.  
  
"I know what your greatest fear is," Onara suddenly said, lowering her voice so Anakin had to lean forward to hear her.  
  
Twang's pink, beady eyes widened at her words, sweat breaking out on his gleaming, bald head.  
  
Onara smiled ruthlessly. "Yes, I know. I know what it is tiny, scuttling little bugs like you fear the most. You're afraid that when you die no one will weep for you. Because one day you'll slip up, and people will see you for what you truly are. Sad, lonely and pathetic. And they'll laugh and point and no longer be afraid of you, and when you die people will come to your funeral. Oh, yes, hundreds, perhaps thousands, but they'll only be the curious onlookers, the inquisitive mob, and those who come merely to confirm you are truly and finally dead. It won't be flowers of mourning that are tossed upon your grave, but weeds of good-riddance. And your burial place will go unvisited, uncared for and unremembered until, like you, it fades away into the abyss of obscurity."  
  
Twang stared down at Onara, his eyes darting from her to Anakin. Although he appeared unnerved by what Onara had said, his belligerence was also once again rising. Splotches of anger darkened his thick cheeks. Onara noted it too, for she slipped her gaze over to Anakin and imperceptibly nodded.  
  
And Anakin, now knowing exactly what it was she wanted him to do, returned her nod. He looked over at Twang and, just as he'd done with Lady Tsara two years ago when Onara had lay dying as a result of her grandmother's schemes and Anakin had been determined to unveil her part in it, pitched his voice the way he did when he used the Jedi mind trick.  
  
"Yes, tell us, Twang. Is that true? Are you afraid of being found out for what you really are and of dying unloved?" he asked, almost gently, but the Force giving his words the needed power to sink deep into the gossipmonger's consciousness.  
  
Twang's fat face shuddered and quivered as if he were having a fit. He glanced wildly between Onara and Anakin. Then, his wide, thin lips trembling, he suddenly burst out crying.  
  
"Yes, yes it's true. It's true," he blubbered. "I am afraid. I've always been afraid. Since I was a little hatchling. Puppa and Mumma used to call me such terrible names. They said no one would ever love me because I was stupid and slow and ugly. But, I showed them. I showed them all!" Twang cried, both anger and grief in his voice, his hands fluttering in front of his wide chest.  
  
"If no one would love me, they'd at least respect and fear me. But, you're right, you're right! I hate and I envy those I talk about. Because they are better than me. They are! So I watch and I wait for them to make a mistake and...and if I can't find out something bad about them, I make it up. Because I want them all to feel what I feel. Pain and shame and fear. Why should I be the only one! Why!"  
  
Twang lowered his face into his tiny hands and sobbed, his huge, thick shoulders heaving. Anakin almost felt sorry for him. Then he looked over at Onara. Her face was stony as she gazed at the weeping Twang and, thinking of Master Obi-Wan and Ben, and even Dalan, and what Twang probably had done to them with his gossip, erased the little bit of pity he felt from his heart. Finally, Twang stopped his weeping. He looked over at Onara, his thick face slimy with snot and tears.  
  
"The retraction and the apology on the HoloNet News by the end of the day," she said curtly.  
  
Twang stared at Onara and numbly nodded. She made as if to leave. Then she stopped and pointed to the jeweled clasp fastened to the neck of the cloak she wore. The jewel that had been delivered to her just before she and Anakin left.  
  
"Oh, by the way. If you should decide once we leave not to do as I have requested, know that in this jewel is a tiny holocamera. If you do not wish to make a broadcast today, I'm sure one of your competitors would be more than happy to do so. With you as their star."  
  
Twang's eyes widened. Onara, giving him a short, sharp smile, turned from him and, with Anakin at her side, walked out of his office. Once they were out of the reception area and inside the lift, Onara suddenly leaned against Anakin. Startled, he put his arm about her shoulder.  
  
"Onara," he cried. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, I think so," she said softly.  
  
She looked up at Anakin, her dark eyes anxious. "I...I almost feel as if...I've been asleep or dreaming."  
  
"Are you feeling sick?"  
  
Onara shook her head. "No, I'm fine. But I was so angry at Twang. The way he sat there, so haughty, so arrogant. And the longer he sat there, the angrier I got, and the more I found myself thinking of Grandmother. Oh, she was a terrible woman, Anakin. Terrible. We both know that. But, I couldn't help thinking what Grandmother would have done with someone like Twang. And, well, it almost felt as if---oh, I don't know how to explain it really- --but it felt as if I could feel Grandmother next to me, telling me what to say and how to say it."  
  
Onara shivered against Anakin. He tightened his arm about her, but he felt a coldness rippling down his spine at her words. He didn't believe in ghosts. The Jedi were taught that upon death a person's spirit became one with the Force, and no identity remained after one had passed on.  
  
Then he found himself recalling when he and that Red Tide boy had fought the night the assassins raided the manor in order to kidnap Ben. After Anakin had killed the boy, he'd stood above his dead body, swelling with pride that he'd defeated such a worthy opponent. However, he'd heard a voice; a voice he'd hadn't heard in years, the voice of a dead man urging him not to glory in his victory. The voice had been that of Master Qui-Gon.  
  
Anakin shook his head as the lift finally reached the top floor and he and Onara walked out onto the air taxi landing area. He had only imagined he heard Master Qui-Gon that night he told himself, just as Onara had only imagined she'd heard her grandmother. As Anakin signaled for an air taxi, Onara tugged on his arm. He looked down at her.  
  
"Anakin, please don't tell Obi-Wan what I said to Twang. I don't think he'd approve. But I just couldn't let that...that son of a _culark_ get away with what he'd done."  
  
Anakin's eyes widened at Onara's use of that term. He'd heard it used by the soldiers who'd been stationed at the manor to guard her and Ben while Obi-Wan had gone in search of Sinja-Bau. He had no idea she was familiar with it. He grinned at her.  
  
"As long as you don't tell him what I did," he offered in response.  
  
Onara returned his smile, her dark eyes sparkling. "Agreed. It will be our little secret."  
  
Anakin laughed as he took her arm and helped her into the air taxi. As it took off, he leaned next to her.  
  
"What about the footage you have of Twang blubbering like the pathetic tub of lard he is?"  
  
Onara reached up and touched the jewel. "Once he's broadcast his apology and retraction, I'll put it someplace safe."  
  
"There are a lot of people who'd give their eyeteeth to see Twang for what he really is."  
  
Onara shook her head. "I only want him to undo what he did to me, my family and Obi-Wan. And for him to think twice about ever doing it again. He'll know I still have this footage in my possession."  
  
Anakin shrugged. If it were him, he'd broadcast that footage all over the Republic and the Outer Rim Territories, but he respected Onara's decision. As the air taxi glided towards her apartment building, Onara turned anxious eyes on Anakin.  
  
"Do you think it will be enough?" she asked.  
  
"Enough?"  
  
"To help Obi-Wan."  
  
"I don't know, Onara."  
  
The last time Obi-Wan had appeared before the Council regarding his relationship with her, it had upset the Council enough they'd sent Obi-Wan away on retreat for six months. And at that time the scandal, as the Council had thought of it, had mostly been contained within the Order itself.  
  
This time, however, his master was the centerpiece of gossip that had been broadcast to the entire Republic. Even if Twang apologized and retracted his statements, Anakin suspected it wouldn't completely get his master out of hot water.  
  
Because the truth was, although Twang had been wrong as to what Obi-Wan and Onara had done last night, he had not been wrong in his suspicions regarding their passion for each other, though both had sworn to forgo it. And it was that passion, Anakin knew, which would worry and disturb the Council far more than anything Twang had said.  
  
To be continued.... 


	12. Part Twelve

Stars in the Darkness - Chapter Twelve  
  
---------------  
  
_HoloNet News: The Information Source for the Galactic Republic - Afternoon Edition Broadcast Feed_  
  
_VIRGILLIAN NODE_ - Although reports are scattered due to a communications blackout, civil war has broken out in the Virgillian system between the Virgillian Free Alignment and the Aristocracy. As this is a developing story, updates will be broadcast as they are received.  
  
_KANA CITY, KANA_ - Noted author Marc Ti died peacefully in his sleep in his mountain estate on Kana at the age of 141. He was famous for his book, _Handbook to a Successful Marriage_, which has sold over 1 trillion copies galaxy-wide and been translated into 5,000 languages and sub-languages since it was published a hundred years ago. Admired for his ability to address all types of marriages involving all kinds of species Ti, though never married himself, decided to write the handbook after observing the failure of the marriages of many of his friends.  
  
_CLOUD CITY, BESPIN_ - An explosion in a Tibanna gas mine killed two workers and injured dozens of others. Authorities were quick to assure the populace this was not the work of terrorists. For the past several weeks, a group known as the People's United Front has demanded that the managers of Cloud City provide adequate medical protection for its workers. Citing the rising cost of such protection, the managers refused. Jeree Ya-Teel, leader of PUF, blamed the explosion on cutbacks in the Republic's Health and Safety Inspection Department. "They're supposed to keep an eye on things. We used to have two inspectors come out every three months. Now, it's one every six months. Keep this up and, trust me, more people are going to die."  
  
_RAXUS PRIME_ - Count Dooku of Serenno, formerly a member of the Jedi Order, in a speech broadcasted on a pirated channel of the HoloNet, blasted both the Republic and the Jedi Order, accusing them of being hopelessly corrupt and out of touch with the people they're supposed to protect. Calling upon all who still believed in justice and freedom to rally around his cause, Dooku promised he would not rest until a new day dawned in the galaxy, where all beings, no matter their species, gender or non-gender, religious affiliation or socio-economic status, reaped the full benefits of citizenship.  
  
_SPECIAL EDITION OF SIGHTINGS BY TAWNG_  
  
_IMAGE OF BLUE-SKIINED TWI'LEK FEMALE_  
  
Greetings, gentle beings. I'm Zenna Efeyni. We're bringing you a special edition of _Sightings by Twang_ to make two announcements. First, Dyslogia Twang is taking an indefinite leave of absence from the HolotNet News. He will be returning to his homeworld of Gira and has no plans in the immediate future to return to broadcasting. Second, before he left Coruscant, Twang recorded the following message:  
  
_IMAGE OF TWANG IN PALE GRAY ROBE GAZING SOMBERLY AT CAMERA_  
  
I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to Senator Onara Lenor and Master Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi for statements I made regarding them. I also offer my apology to the Galactic Senate and the Jedi Order, and I hereby retract any statements made involving all concerned. My statements were not based on fact, but on conjecture and speculation, and any harm or injury I might have caused Senator Lenor, Master Kenobi or anyone associated with them, I now offer my apology.  
  
_IMAGE OF ZENNA EFEYNI SMILING WIDELY_  
  
Thank you, Twang. Let's all wish him much happiness in his new life and our hopes he'll be returning soon. An announcement will be made shortly as to what will replace _Sightings by Twang_. Ta ta and much happiness!  
  
_Broadcast Feed Terminated_  
  
----------------  
  
Obi-Wan walked slowly alongside Yoda who was seated in a floating chair. This allowed the Jedi Master to converse with the younger Jedi at face level, which Obi-Wan much appreciated since it helped to prevent cricks in his neck from having to look down at the diminutive Jedi. The two were walking in the spacious corridor located near the entrance to the Jedi Temple.  
  
Other Jedi--masters, knights, initiates, padawans, and couriers--and the occasional droid, went about their business, but neither Yoda or Obi-Wan took note of them or of their surroundings. Deep in conversation, they also did not notice the sidelong glances they received when others walked pass.  
  
"Punishment it is not."  
  
"If you say so, Master."  
  
"Preventive measure you should think of it as."  
  
Obi-Wan's expression twisted. "Preventive?" He laughed sharply. "It sounds more like banishment since the Council's decision was that I'm to leave Coruscant immediately and return to the field."  
  
"Banishment it is not. But, yes, preventive it is."  
  
"In what way, Master?"  
  
"Afraid the Council is."  
  
"Afraid? Afraid of what?"  
  
Yoda stopped the movement of his chair, forcing Obi-Wan to stop also. The Jedi Master looked over, his leaf-green eyes somber.  
  
"Of losing you, that is what they fear."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I thought I made it quite clear I will not leave the Jedi Order. That I will remain true to the commitment I've made. Doesn't the Council believe me?"  
  
"Believe you they do, but..." Yoda stopped, tilting his head, his long pointed ears twitching.  
  
Obi-Wan took in and released a deep breath. He had to admit it irritated him to no end when Yoda got into these moods whereby he would draw out the conversation by only offering information piece-meal.  
  
"But what, Master?" he pressed, pitching his voice to let Yoda know he wasn't in the mood to play this particular game today.  
  
"Of the members of the Council, how many are human?" Yoda suddenly asked.  
  
Startled by the question, Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment. "Three," he answered. "Masters Billaba, Gallia and Windu."  
  
Yoda nodded. "Agree do you the concept of taking a mate and raising children is nearly universal in all sentient species?"  
  
"It would appear so," Obi-Wan said cautiously, not sure where Yoda was taking the conversation.  
  
"And yet, out all of the species in the galaxy only a few, humans in particular, so much of their energy devote to it."  
  
"I can't say one way or the other having never done research on the matter."  
  
Yoda grunted, adjusting his robe about him as he started up the floating chair, Obi-Wan once again walking alongside him.  
  
"Research I have done on it."  
  
Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. "Really?"  
  
"The devotion of humans to their mates and their offspring," Yoda stated, ignoring the pointed look Obi-Wan gave him, "and the amount of time and resources they devote to their protection and care that of most species outstrips."  
  
"Master Yoda, this is all very fascinating, but I don't see---"  
  
"Did not your own words in the Council Chamber hear, Master Obi-Wan?"  
  
Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to stop and Yoda's to wait for him. "My words?"  
  
Yoda moved his floating chair closer until he was just in front of Obi-Wan.  
  
"If universe," he said quietly and slowly, "cold, dark and lifeless were to around you become, and Onara and your child were all that remained, joy you would still know unbounded." The corner of Yoda's wide mouth quirked up. "No mention of Jedi Order was there in your statement."  
  
Obi-Wan stared open-mouthed at Yoda. Then he quickly recovered himself.  
  
"But...surely the Council knew what I meant. Right after I said that I assured them my loyalties still lie and always would with the Order."  
  
Yoda shook his head, as if he were listening to a young child trying to convince him he had not told a lie.  
  
"Master Obi-Wan," he chided gently. He pointed to Obi-Wan's forehead. "Those words from your head you spoke." He moved his knobby finger down to Obi-Wan's chest. "The others from your heart came. And it was those words of the heart, with such passion and such conviction spoken, that made the Council afraid. Especially Master Oppo. Believe it or not, much admires you he does."  
  
Obi-Wan did not respond, finding that hard to believe. Yoda, noting his expression, laughed.  
  
"True it is. Need you the Order does. Now more than ever. Of this Master Oppo is much aware. Therefore, afraid he is that leave the Order you will to be with your child and the woman who bore him. And this fear his words sharpen."  
  
A sudden, jagged pain twisted through Obi-Wan's heart. Blasted, he thought, how many times did he have to say it and, therefore, relive it. Onara and Ben were not his to be with and never would be. Then he was shocked by Yoda's next words.  
  
"So certain are you?" the Jedi Master asked as if he'd been reading Obi- Wan's mind.  
  
"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said firmly, ignoring Yoda's question. "I don't know what more I can say to you or to the Council. I will not abandon the Order. I will finish Anakin's training as I promised my master, and I will remain completely loyal and, if need be, give my life to the Jedi and to the Republic."  
  
Yoda folded his hands neatly in his lap as he floated in front of Obi-Wan.  
  
"This I believe, Obi-Wan. This the Council believes, too."  
  
"But they're still sending me away from Coruscant," he said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice.  
  
"Yes," Yoda said simply.  
  
"Even in light of Twang's apology and retraction of his statements regarding myself and Onara?"  
  
Yoda nodded.  
  
Obi-Wan straightened his shoulders, his chin lifted. "Then I shall do as the Council orders. But, I don't see why Anakin has to share in this," and his voice twisted around the word, "_preventive_ measure. He's been longing to return to Coruscant. I would like for him to remain here."  
  
"If remain here he wishes, stay he can. Much he can learn here too."  
  
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said. "When must I leave?"  
  
"In two days. Assignment we have for you."  
  
Obi-Wan bowed deeply but, as he turned to leave, Yoda called after him.  
  
"Ben, how does he?"  
  
Obi-Wan stopped, both pain and delight bursting in his heart.  
  
"He does well, Master. Sinja-Bau is training him, and Onara says he's the brightest two-year old..."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped, surprised his throat seemed to have closed up. He cleared it quickly, folding his arms into the sleeves of his robe and holding them tight against his chest.  
  
"Onara has told him about me," he went on, willing his voice to remain steady. "Not as his father, of course. Just stories. He...he drew a picture of me as a gift. He much admires the Jedi."  
  
Yoda nodded. "One day this picture I would like to see. The mind of a child is always a wondrous place to visit."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled. "Yes, it is."  
  
"Come to Coruscant will he?"  
  
"Yes. When Senator Lenor has settled in a bit more."  
  
"When come he does, visit to the Temple I will arrange for him. Like it will he?"  
  
Obi-Wan smiled widely. "Oh, yes, very much so, Master."  
  
"Then arrange it I will."  
  
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said, bowing deeply.  
  
Yoda inclined his head, dismissing him. As he watched the young Jedi stride away, his dark brown robe sweeping behind him, his boots ringing on the floor, he thought of the day, nearly three years ago, when Obi-Wan had contacted him from Ahjane, seeking guidance on the blessing ceremony Dynast K'lia, Onara's father, had asked him to participate in with the young bride. Obi-Wan had not wanted to, seeking, Yoda knew, his countenance in not having to go through with it.  
  
But Yoda had admonished Obi-Wan and told he must respect the customs of the Ahjane and see the request for the great honor it was and, reluctantly, Obi- Wan had agreed to do so. Not only did he go through with the blessing ceremony, he fell in love with Onara as a result and she, through no fault of her own, gave him a son.  
  
Yoda sighed and, as he steered his chair through the corridors of the Temple, acknowledging, with only a half a mind, the bows from those he passed, he wondered what would have happened if he'd done as Obi-Wan had wanted and ordered him not to participate in the Ahjane blessing ceremony.  
  
-------------  
  
Anakin, who was trying his best not to fidget, gazed down at the great rotunda of the main Senate Chamber. Over a thousand platforms, used by senators, diplomats and other representatives, lined the huge rounded walls. He and Obi-Wan were standing on one of the visitor's galleries overlooking the chamber.  
  
It was the official opening day of the Senate and Obi-Wan had wanted to stop by before leaving Coruscant. Anakin knew why. On this day new members of the Senate were introduced, and there were, according to the Senate Calendar, 75 to be presented, Onara among them. However, Mas Amedda, the Vice-Chair of the Galactic Senate, had been reading the introductions alphabetically by last name. He had finally gotten to Onara's.  
  
Noting Obi-Wan had moved closer to the edge of the gallery, Anakin followed. As there were no railing, it was a little dizzying. He looked around the vast hall. He had no idea where Onara's platform was located, but he knew once her name was announced it would float away from its mooring and out to the center of the rotunda. Anakin saw the tiny figure of Chancellor Palpatine, who had stood throughout all the introductions and warmly greeted every one of the new members. Looking at him, Anakin recalled the invitation he had received this morning to meet with the Chancellor later in the week.  
  
In the years Anakin had been Obi-Wan's apprentice, he had spent some time with Palpatine. Not a lot, but enough that Anakin knew the Chancellor seemed to have a great interest in him. Their meetings, however, had occurred infrequently, as Anakin was often away with Obi-Wan, but they had been pleasantly spent, with the Chancellor mostly inquiring about his training and how it was going. Today, however, Anakin had had to send his regrets to the Chancellor, informing him he would be unable to meet with him as he was leaving Coruscant with his master.  
  
Although he knew he did not have to accompany Obi-Wan upon what Anakin thought of as the Council's banishment of his master from Coruscant, he had let Obi-Wan know in no uncertain terms that if he was trying to get rid of Anakin by telling him he did not have to come, he was going to have try harder. Wherever his master went, so would he. Pure and simple. Obi-Wan had laughed and Anakin had been greatly touched by the warmth and gratitude he saw in those clear, blue-gray eyes.  
  
However, truth be told, it did gall him a bit having to leave. He had hoped that now that he'd seen Padmé again, he would get to spend more time in her company, but if Obi-Wan could stand being parted from Onara, he could stand a few months away from Padmé. And Sith, he reminded himself, the first time the two of them had been together in nearly ten years, Padmé had spent it talking mostly about politics. Hardly an auspicious beginning for a relationship of a romantic nature.  
  
Anakin sighed, focusing his attention back on the rotunda where Mas Amedda was pompously lifting his huge, horned head.  
  
"From the sovereign system of Ahjane," he intoned, "I present to the Supreme Chancellor and the Senate of the Galactic Republic, Senator Onara Lenor."  
  
Anakin suddenly picked up waves of tension from Obi-Wan. This was why his master had come. It was no secret that Anakin and Onara had paid a visit to Dyslogia Twang, try as the two had to keep it that way. And when Twang, hours later, gave his unprecedented apology and retraction and, on top of that, shocked everyone by taking an indefinite leave of absence, the rumor mills on Coruscant started turning. Speculation ran rampant as to what had happened, with that Sith-cursed group known as the Jedi Watch accusing Anakin of having put some sort of Jedi spell on Twang, an accusation which had made Anakin quite nervous since, in a manner of speaking, he had.  
  
When Obi-Wan had inquired as to what had happened at Twang's office, Anakin, recalling his promise to Onara, had only said the two of them had engaged in a reasonable and levelheaded conversation with the gossip columnist, appealing to his innate sense of decency, and soberly requesting that he apologize for his slander and retract his statements.  
  
Obi-Wan had said nothing after Anakin's explanation, his eyes boring deeply into his apprentice's. But, surprisingly, he had left it at that. Anakin suspected his master had some inkling of what had happened with Twang but, knowing he wouldn't approve of what Anakin had done and yet, at the same time, not disapproving of it either, decided to leave well enough alone.  
  
Which was just as well. After an editorial appeared the next day on the HoloNet News accusing the Jedi Order and the Senate of having coerced the apology and retraction from Twang and demanding an inquest into the situation, Twang had immediately relayed a message from the ship taking him to his homeworld, declaring that he had given the apology and retraction willingly after having discussed it with Senator Lenor.  
  
Anakin suspected, however, that the last thing Twang wanted was for that holotape Onara had of him blubbering like an overgrown baby turning up in the inquest. Twang's declaration of his total complicity in the matter had seemed to quell the controversy but Obi-Wan, Anakin knew, had still been concerned as to how Onara would be received by the Senate after all the hullabaloo.  
  
Now he watched as Onara's platform detached from the wall and glided towards the Chancellor's stately column located in the center of the rotunda where he, Mas Amedda and that creepy-looking Sly Moore waited. The Umbaran had never failed to give Anakin the willies each time he'd visited with the Chancellor. She always seemed to be around. Never speaking, hardly moving, so that sometimes you forgot she was even there.  
  
Anakin shuddered and drew his attention away from her and over to Onara's platform. He recognized Keria by her bright blonde hair as she sat next to Onara. Probably scared out of her skull, Anakin thought smiling. He didn't recognize the Bith sitting with them. Probably one of Onara's aides.  
  
At first there was only silence as Onara's platform floated, then stopped in front of the Chancellor's column. Obi-Wan, who had moved so close to the edge of the gallery Anakin feared he would fall off, frowned at the continuing silence. The Chancellor gazed down at Onara, then smiled.  
  
"Welcome, Senator Lenor. I hope you will find your tenure in the Senate rewarding. You certainly have started it off in a most, may I say, propitious manner. Anyone capable of finally silencing Dyslogia Twang will do quite well here."  
  
Anakin's mouth dropped open and he saw Obi-Wan was just as surprised. Silence followed Palpatine's words then, suddenly, the entire rotunda burst into applause and cheers. Senators and their aides rose from their seats and gave Onara a standing ovation. Anakin nodded in understanding. Of course. If any one group had been the primary recipient of Twang's barbs, insults and innuendoes, it had been the members of the Senate. Although, he mused dryly, most of them had more than likely deserved it.  
  
But, whether they did or not, what Onara had done, at least for the moment, had endeared her to them. He couldn't tell what her reaction was to all this, but Obi-Wan was evidently pleased, for he was smiling and clapping. Anakin joined him.  
  
Once the applause had died down, Onara gave a short speech, thanking the Chancellor and the Senate for having granted Ahjane's admission into the Republic, and a lot of other boring stuff Anakin had learned over time politicians felt duty bound to say. He noted, however, Obi-Wan hanging on her every word, and the way he gazed at her, small and distant on her floating platform, he resembled a man taking a last, lingering look at something precious that was about to disappear forever from his sight.  
  
Onara finished her speech and, to more applause, moved her platform back to its assigned spot against the wall. Mas Amedda continued down his list of names, but Obi-Wan had already moved away from the gallery and out into the hall. Anakin followed him. He had thought his master was going to the area where Onara's platform was located, so he was surprised when, instead, Obi- Wan kept walking towards the entrance.  
  
"Master."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped and turned. "What is it, Anakin? We shouldn't delay. Our transport for Triffis is leaving soon."  
  
"Aren't you going to say goodbye to Onara?"  
  
Obi-Wan stopped, a fleeting look of sadness crossing his face. "I think it best if I not see her now, Anakin, wouldn't you agree? I only wanted to assure myself she would not suffer unduly as a result of what happened with Twang. And, it appears, she will be all right."  
  
Anakin wondered about that. The Senate Chamber was nothing but a rancor pit, and he certainly didn't relish leaving either Onara or Padmé in the midst of it but, he assured himself, neither women were pushovers, by no means. Certainly not Onara, who had surprised him with what she'd done to Twang, and his lovely Padmé had taken on the entire Trade Federation when she was only fourteen. No, he needn't worry. Both women were strong and capable. They would be fine.  
  
"And, well," Obi-Wan said softly, breaking into Anakin's thoughts, but seeming to be speaking only to himself, "I've already said my goodbye to her."  
  
He gazed past Anakin for a moment, then refocused on him, giving him a wide smile.  
  
"Let's be on our way, my young apprentice. We have much work to do."  
  
Anakin nodded, smiling in return and, striding confidently at the side of his master, looked forward to whatever new adventures awaited them.  
  
--------------  
  
Later that evening, as Onara sat in her apartment, sipping a hot cup of Ahjane tea, she let herself slowly unwind from the day's events. Much had happened. After her introduction to the Senate, her office had been deluged with invitations to meetings, dinners, luncheons and soirées. Completely overwhelmed by it all, she had left it to her assistants to sort through.  
  
But one request she had received she responded to promptly. It had come from Bail Organa, at the request of Chancellor Palpatine. She had been offered a seat on the Ethics Committee, one never before offered to a freshman senator. Onara had quickly accepted. It was not one of the most powerful committees in the Senate, but it was one she had a keen interest in serving on. Like Padmé, she believed strongly in the Republic, and she was highly motivated to see that it was restored to the glory and prestige it had once possessed, for she was determined to help make the Senate an entity that Obi-Wan could once again proudly serve.  
  
She knew how much the current level of corruption in the Senate distressed him, and she wanted to do something about it so he would no longer be so cynical about government. Sipping her tea, she recalled the standing ovation the senators had given her, but she wryly speculated as to how much longer their goodwill would last once she got to work on the committee.  
  
As she finished the last of her tea, the door chimed. Since Keria was sleeping, having been totally exhausted by all that had happened on this most eventful day, Onara got up and answered it. A tall, thin, mournful- looking alien stood in the doorway, dressed in a plain gray jumpsuit, a blazon on his chest signifying he worked for something called _Bulbon's Delivery Service_.  
  
"Senator Onara Lenor?" he queried in a low, slow voice.  
  
"Yes, I'm Senator Lenor."  
  
He handed her a white box, wrapped with a gold and silver ribbon. He then passed over a small datapad to which Onara affixed her thumbprint. He bowed and stepped back into the lift, the doors closing behind him.  
  
Onara took the box into the sitting area and sat on the couch with it. She undid the ribbon and opened it. Inside, wrapped in saffron-colored tissue paper, was an Ahjane matron's shawl, the kind worn by the highest ladies of her homeworld. It was green and blue with a long gold fringe. On top of it lay a small white envelope. Onara picked it up, her fingers trembling as she opened it. She drew out a thick ivory card upon which a note was written in neat, but bold black handwriting.  
  
_Wrap this about you, my love, at night or whenever you feel a chill. Wrap it about you and our son when you tell him your stories, knowing that, although I am not there with you, nor can I ever be, my arms are about you both, protecting and loving you. Always and forever. And remember, if ever you or Ben have need of me, call for me, and I will come._  
  
The card was unsigned. Onara pressed it to her heart, closing her eyes, but tears slipped beneath the lids anyway. She lowered the card, placing it on the couch. Taking the shawl out of the box, she wrapped it around her shoulders. It was warm and soft and smelled faintly of incense. And of him.  
  
To be continued.... 


	13. Part Thirteen

Hi! First, sorry for the long delay in posting to this fic. I was informed a few days ago that I'm to be laid off from my job, so I haven't been able to do much writing of late. I hope to get back into it, but right now I'm still dealing with the shock of it.  
  
Now, a quick note about this post. In "First Knight", if you recall, Lady Tsara hired the Red Tide to kidnap Ben and kill Dynast K'lia. The leader of the Red Tide was a man named Latan. (If you don't remember, that's okay. He wasn't in the story very much. :) ) Anyway, it was Latan's son who was killed by Anakin. Well, Latan is in this chapter, but I changed his name to LURSAN because Latan was too similar to Dalan and might have been a bit confusing. Okay on with the chapter. :)  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirteen  
  
----------  
  
Sinja-Bau watched, willing herself not to smile, as Ben, his little forehead furrowed, his large blue-gray eyes unblinking, stared at the clear square block he held between his hands. Inside the block were a number of brightly-colored objects of varying shapes and sizes. As she had instructed, he was moving the objects around using the Force, his intent to duplicate the pattern she had demonstrated to him. They'd been working with the Alter Toy everyday for the past week, but Ben was still having trouble reproducing the pattern. Today, she sensed, he was determined to succeed.  
  
The Alter Toy was among several Force training aids Sinja-Bau had requested from the Temple for Ben's training. She had not been confident, however, that her request would be granted. She was no longer a member of the Jedi Order, having been cast out of it when she went insane, her Force powers stripped from her. Yet, a week ago, a package had arrived from Coruscant, from Master Yoda himself, with the toys she'd requested inside. There'd been no note or letter accompanying the package, but Sinja-Bau had not expected any.  
  
When Obi-Wan finally found her on Toola, seeking her aid in saving Onara's life, the Force not only cured her of her madness, but returned her powers to her. She had, however, not been invited back to the Jedi Order, nor had she sought to be reinstated. She had elected to remain on Ahjane with Onara, helping her rule her province after her father's death and seeing to the care and training of her Force sensitive child.  
  
And, as the two years she'd lived here gone swiftly past, Sinja-Bau could not imagine any place she would rather be than on this beautiful, pastoral world as tutor and nanny to this equally beautiful, extraordinary child, for Ben had become not only her student and her charge, but the child she would never have.  
  
Mindful, of course, that not one, not two, but three people had claim to him as their son, Sinja-Bau never forgot what her true status was in relation to Ben. But, if anyone ever dared to raise a hand against him, or harm him in anyway, they would be witness to something rarely seen in the galaxy: the wrath of someone with the power of the Jedi, but no longer proscribed by its rules.  
  
Then, noting Ben was picking up on her feelings, for he was glancing worriedly at her, Sinja-Bau quickly calmed herself. It was that man who had caused her protective instincts regarding Ben to rise to the surface. Dalan's new best friend. Lursan. Even now, thinking of him, it took all of Sinja-Bau's willpower not to let her suspicions about him overwhelm her.  
  
He was, supposedly, a business associate of Dalan's, a dealer in antiquities and exotic rugs, quite wealthy and well-respected in the capital, but from the first time Dalan had introduced him to her, Sinja-Bau felt uneasy about him, but was never able to pinpoint why. On the surface he appeared pleasant enough, with his storm-gray eyes and genteel manners. But there was something about him, elusive and subtle, that reminded her of the movements of a moon-cobra; disarmingly charming the moon-cobra was, as it dipped and bobbed its white, hooded head until, suddenly, it struck, viciously and fatally. Then, once again noting Ben was glancing over at her, Sinja-Bau dismissed Lursan from her mind.  
  
"You must not lose your concentration, Ben. Focus, or you will lose the pattern."  
  
Ben nodded and looked back at the crystal block. The objects inside it darted about as he struggled to duplicate the pattern Sinja-Bau had shown him. He had almost completed it, but there was one object, a blue hexagon, he was having trouble fitting with the rest.  
  
Sinja-Bau held her breath. The Alter Toy also had a timer on it, and Ben had only a few seconds remaining to complete the pattern. His frown deepened as he used the Force to sweep the hexagon around as he searched for where to put it. Then, finally discovering where it belonged, he slid it smoothly in. A second later the timer beeped.  
  
"Well done!" Sinja-Bau cried.  
  
Ben looked over at her, a wide smile on his cherubic face, his blue-gray eyes shining. "I did it, Bau-Bau. I did it!"  
  
"Yes, you did, and I'm very proud of you, Ben. You worked very hard and did not give up."  
  
He looked back at the completed pattern within the crystal block. "I wish Mama was here so I could show her."  
  
Sinja-Bau reached over and stroked his soft, warm cheek. "If she were here, I know she would be very proud of you too."  
  
Ben nodded, his eyes dimming for a moment. Sinja-Bau knew he missed Onara terribly, though he put up a brave front about it. She had tried to be something of a substitute for his mother, telling him stories at night before he went to sleep. Not about Obi-Wan, of course, for that was between Onara and Ben, but she'd ordered some children's books from the capital, and Ben had seemed to enjoy those.  
  
He stared solemnly at the colorful pattern within the crystal block. Then his eyes brightened. He turned and went over to the small table in his room. On it, resting among his toys, its eight legs tucked under its round furriness, its eyes closed, and its eartfufts twitching as it napped, was Ben's pet voorpak, the one he had named Obi-Wan.  
  
"Look, Obi-Wan," he said, showing the Alter Toy to the voorpak, but as Ben continued to hold the crystal block in front of it, the creature did not stir or open an eye. It slept on, oblivious to the need of a small boy to share his accomplishment with someone.  
  
Sinja-Bau smiled. "Ben," she called.  
  
He turned and looked at her.  
  
"Perhaps your father would like to see what you did."  
  
A wide smile split his face. "Yes, I'll show it to Papa."  
  
He moved away from the table, running for the door.  
  
"Walk, Ben," Sinja-Bau admonished him.  
  
"Yes, Bau-Bau," he said, somewhat slowing his steps, but his small body was still moving at a rather hurried velocity. She followed him out of his room and into the corridor. One of the servants was passing by. Sinja-Bau stopped her and asked where Dalan was.  
  
"In the drawing room, with Master Lursan."  
  
Sinja-Bau felt a chill slither down her spine. She'd had no idea Lursan was here. He'd been at the manor just a few days ago. But, over the past couple of weeks, he'd been spending a lot of time here, and he and Dalan would sit in the drawing room behind closed doors for hours, their voices rising and falling.  
  
Sinja-Bau, however, had no idea what it was they discussed, for she was never privy to their conversations. She assumed it was matters of business and state, but she had also noted that every time Lursan left, Dalan would be tense and agitated afterwards. He had also taking to drinking with Lursan, something he had stopped doing after the night of the storm when he and Onara had their terrible fight.  
  
Although Dalan had been distressed by Twang's first broadcast he, like her, had brushed it off as nothing more than lewd gossip, for he knew Onara well enough to know she would never do anything so stupid as to publicly have an affair with Obi-Wan. He had been more concerned about how it was affecting her. Twang's retraction and apology the following day had then confirmed what he and Sinja-Bau both knew. There was nothing to what had been said about Onara and Obi-Wan.  
  
However, a few days later, after Lursan had paid another one of his visits to the manor, then left, and Ben was up in his room playing, Dalan and Sinja-Bau had been discussing when to take him to Coruscant. When she suggested within the month, Dalan gave her a sharp, stabbing look.  
  
"No, I think not," he said, his dark blue eyes wintry as he looked down at her. "Ben shouldn't be around Onara right now. It would not be good for him."  
  
Sinja-Bau had asked him what he meant by that, but Dalan had not answered her, only repeating that he would not take Ben to Coruscant next month. Now, recalling the conversation, she was about to tell Ben he should wait until after Lursan had left to show Dalan the Alter Toy but he, having heard the servant's words, was already racing down the wide staircase to the lower floor. Sinja-Bau thanked the servant and hurriedly followed him.  
  
--------------  
  
Lursan Tihon, once the leader of the Red Tide, nursed his snifter of Corellian brandy as he looked over at Dalan. The young Dynast, a brandy also in hand, was standing in front of the large oil painting of his wife, Senator Onara Gavon Lenor, which hung over the huge fireplace in the drawing room.  
  
Lursan sat in a plush, blue chair near the fireplace, but Dalan had paced about the room as they had talked and then, at one point in the conversation, had stopped in front of the painting. He now stared at it, his dark blue eyes filled with both longing and suspicion. Lursan smiled to himself as he lifted his glass and sipped at the brandy.  
  
Sliding his gaze away from Dalan and up at the painting, he too stared at the beautiful, young Senator. He saw nothing in her of that battle ax of a grandmother, the formidable Lady Tsara. Onara's large, dark eyes, even in the painting, conveyed only promises of pleasure and passion that her full, lush mouth and slender, but voluptuous body, seemed more than willing to deliver.  
  
Dressed in a gown of crimson velvet ornamented in gold, the low décolletage hanging off her slender shoulders, Onara's dress was laced tightly with gold cord about her slender waist, its full, round skirt flowing to the floor. Her rich, dark hair was piled high on her head, tiny rubies glittering in her dainty ears, and to Lursan's eyes she looked every inch the daughter, wife and mother of a Dynast. Lursan didn't blame Dalan for wanting so desperately to hold on to such a prize.  
  
Glancing back at Dalan, who raised his snifter of brandy and drank from it as he continued to gaze up at Onara, Lursan felt a twinge of pain as he thought of his own wife. She had died a few months ago, finally succumbing to the illness that her plagued her since the day Lursan returned to their home to tell her their only child was dead.  
  
Rhad had died the night of the raid on Dynast K'lia's manor, killed by that Jedi apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. It had taken Lursan's wife nearly two years to finally die, suffering every day of her life as she mourned the loss of their son. During that time, thoughts of vengeance, though never far from Lursan's mind, had been set aside as he cared for his wife. Finally, mercifully, she had passed on.  
  
Now, all that remained in Lursan's heart was revenge for the Jedi who had taken away not only his son, but his beloved wife. He had disbanded the Red Tide after Rhad's death, for as the Red Tide had been passed on to Lursan from his father, and to his father from his father, Lursan had planned to pass it on to Rhad. But with his son's death, and the death of many of its finest members in that debacle of a raid two years ago, Lursan had dissolved the Red Tide, focusing initially on caring for his ailing wife, establishing the business he now owned and, with his wife's death, planning his revenge against Skywalker and Kenobi.  
  
Noting Dalan's glass was empty, Lursan placed his own on a table next to his chair and went over to him. Dalan, who was still gazing up at Onara's portrait, jumped a bit when Lursan took the empty glass from his hand, then smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Let me get you some more," Lursan said in a smooth, low voice.  
  
Dalan's dark blue eyes grew worried. "I...I've probably had enough."  
  
Lursan shook his head, easing the glass out of Dalan's hand. "Nonsense. It's not every day I get a shipment of Corellian brandy in. We mustn't let it go to waste."  
  
Dalan nodded in agreement. Lursan turned and took the glass to the table where the carafe of brandy sat. He knew Dalan was concerned he'd been drinking too much of late. He had told Lursan about the night of the storm, when in an attempt to drown his sorrows over the loss of his and Onara's baby, he had gotten drunk and accused his wife of still being in love with the Jedi she had lain with the night of the blessing ceremony. Lursan had listened sympathetically, assuring Dalan he had done nothing wrong that night. Any full-blooded Ahjane male would have felt the same way and done the same thing.  
  
Pouring the brandy into Dalan's snifter, Lursan reflected on how easy it had been to gain the young Dynast's confidence. He'd almost seemed eager to finally have someone to whom he could share his feelings of doubt and fear regarding Onara. Dalan was smitten with his wife in a way that, if Lursan had been capable of feeling such things, would have made him pity the young man.  
  
But Lursan felt no pity towards Dalan. He felt nothing regarding him, for Dalan was merely a tool; an instrument whereby he would finally avenge the deaths of his son and his wife. Turning back to Dalan, Lursan gave him the glass of brandy. Dalan thanked him, quickly taking a sip as looked back up at Onara's portrait. Lursan, who stood next to him, released an appropriately, he hoped, sympathetic sigh.  
  
"A most beautiful woman, Dalan."  
  
Dalan nodded as he took another drink of his brandy.  
  
"It's must be difficult for you to be parted her from like this," Lursan went on.  
  
Dalan swallowed hard and Lursan noted his hand tightening around the snifter.  
  
"Yes," he finally said. "Very difficult."  
  
"You love her so much."  
  
"I do," Dalan said, his voice thick with emotion. "Very much."  
  
"And you must think of her every day and every night, I would imagine," Lursan said softly.  
  
Dalan nodded again, but said nothing, his eyes reflecting the fire's light as he gazed hungrily up at Onara's portrait.  
  
"And, it is to be hoped," Lursan said in a soft voice, "she thinks of you just as much in spite of her many....[i]distractions[/i] on Coruscant."  
  
Dalan looked sharply over at Lursan. He saw the Dynast was about to respond, but the door to the drawing room suddenly burst open. Both men turned quickly. A dark-haired toddler with bright blue-gray eyes ran into the room, a clear square box in his hands. However, noting Lursan was in the room, the child stopped and stared.  
  
"Papa," he said tentatively, his eyes moving between Dalan and Lursan.  
  
Dalan put his glass of brandy on the mantelpiece. He walked over to the boy and bent down, putting his face close to the child's. Lursan noted the boy's face wrinkled slightly when he smelled the brandy on Dalan's breath.  
  
"What do you have there, Ben?" Dalan asked, his voice slightly slurred.  
  
Ben glanced over at Lursan. He had met the boy before, but only once. Yet, then, as now, Lursan was impressed with how striking looking a child he was. With his mother's thick dark hair and what Lursan could only assume were his Jedi father's blue-gray eyes, the boy was destined to grow up to be a very handsome man.  
  
But what had surprised Lursan even more was how much Dalan seemed to love him. Any self-respecting Ahjane male would have at least accepted a child who came to him through marriage, though the child not be of his blood, but he certainly wouldn't act as if the child were his own flesh. But Dalan did. Even now, Lursan could see in his dark blue eyes the unabashed love he had for the boy.  
  
"I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to inter...inter..."  
  
"Interrupt?" Dalan said gently.  
  
Ben nodded, smiling.  
  
"That's all right, Ben. But, next time, when the door is closed, it's polite to knock first."  
  
"I will, Papa."  
  
Dalan reached over and ruffled the boy's dark hair. "Now, properly greet Master Lursan."  
  
Ben walked over to Lursan, the clear box filled with the brightly colored objects still between his hands. He bowed, his little face grave.  
  
"Welcome to our home, Master Lursan," he said solemnly in his clear, child's voice.  
  
Lursan nodded, but said nothing. Ben turned back to Dalan. "Now can I show you, Papa?"  
  
"Yes, Ben. Now you can show me."  
  
Lursan watched as the child showed Dalan his toy, explaining how he had used the Force to duplicate the pattern shown to him by Sinja-Bau. Just as he said her name, the silver-haired woman walked into the drawing room. Lursan tensed. Ever since he'd met the ex-Jedi he had felt uneasy in her presence. He knew that two years ago she had been stark raving mad and, as a result, had been cast out of the Jedi Order.  
  
But, miraculously, not only had her sanity been restored, but so had her Jedi powers, and it was those powers that made Lursan uncomfortable. He didn't know much about this Force the Jedi wielded, so he often wondered if the looks Sinja-Bau gave him, her blue-green eyes seeming to bore into his soul, suggested she knew him for what he truly was. He did not think so, however, for surely she would have warned Dalan about him long before now. No, Lursan thought, as the woman walked over to Ben and stood behind him almost protectively, one of her slender hands resting on his shoulder, she appeared to only have suspicions about him. That was all. But it was enough.  
  
"It is true, Sinja-Bau?" Dalan asked after Ben had done explaining what he'd accomplished with the toy.  
  
Sinja-Bau, who had been staring at Lursan, drew her eyes from him and looked over at Dalan. She smiled.  
  
"Yes, it's true. And, for someone his age, Ben did very well. As well as someone who had been Temple-trained." Then she blushed. "Though I don't mean it as some kind of boasting on my part," she quickly said. "I meant it as commentary on how gifted Ben is."  
  
Ben, at her words, looked up at her and grinned. She returned his smile, but tapped him affectionately on his head as if to warn him not to get a swelled head.  
  
"That's wonderful, Ben," Dalan said, taking the boy by his shoulders and squeezing him gently. "I'm very proud of you."  
  
Ben blue-gray eyes lit up as he smiled at Dalan. "Thank you, Papa."  
  
Sinja-Bau reached over and took Ben's arm. "Come, Ben. We mustn't disturb your father any longer." She gave Lursan a sharp, pointed look. "He has a guest."  
  
"All right, Bau-Bau."  
  
He took her hand and, with a last wide smile at Dalan, left the room with her. Once the door closed behind them, Lursan turned to Dalan.  
  
"He will make a formidable Dynast," he said. "Never in our history has there been a Dynast with the power of the Jedi."  
  
Dalan nodded somberly. He walked over and took his glass off the mantelpiece.  
  
"That was what Onara's grandmother had wanted. That's why she made sure Onara..." Dalan stopped and took a long drink of his brandy. "...conceived a child with Obi-Wan."  
  
"And the Jedi Order made no claims on him?"  
  
Dalan shook his head. "Onara would not have given him up even if they had requested to train him."  
  
Lursan moved closer to Dalan. "And yet, he is being trained after all."  
  
Dalan looked sharply over at him. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Sinja-Bau. She's a Jedi."  
  
"Ex-Jedi. They cast her out long ago. She has no loyalty to them."  
  
"Perhaps," Lursan replied. "She may no longer have a loyalty to the Jedi Order, but she may still have a loyalty to this Force of hers."  
  
Dalan frowned at Lursan. He took another drink of his brandy, draining it. Lursan took it and poured more brandy into it.  
  
"What are you saying, Lursan?" Dalan asked after taking a drink once the glass was back in his hand, his voice now clearly slurred.  
  
"I'm only suggesting it may be in your best interest to keep an eye on her."  
  
"Keep an eye on her? Why? She'd rather die than hurt Ben."  
  
"Of course she would," Lursan said soothingly. "But she may find herself compelled to do things that may not coincide with your plans for the boy. He is to rule your province, is he not?"  
  
Dalan nodded.  
  
"Well, in that case, it may be wise to at least ensure things happen as you plan, not as she wants."  
  
Dalan moved away from the fireplace, his glass in hand. "I'm still not sure what it is you're suggesting, Lursan. First you tell me I should be mindful of what's happening with Onara on Coruscant, now that I must be wary of Sinja-Bau."  
  
Lursan frowned as he watched Dalan make his way to one of the overstuffed chairs and sit heavily in it. It was true Lursan had, subtly but undeniably, instilled doubt within the Dynast's mind regarding the faithfulness of his wife. Lursan still had not worked out completely in his mind how he was going to get his revenge against Skywalker and that master of his, but he sensed Onara and, perhaps, Ben were the key.  
  
Planting those seeds of doubt within Dalan regarding Onara's fidelity was something Lursan had done purely on instinct, believing that, when the time came, it would bear dark fruit. But, as Lursan walked over to Dalan, he also knew he had to be very careful. Dalan's love for Onara and Ben and his admiration for Sinja-Bau ran deep. If Lursan wanted to manipulate those feelings to his purposes, he would have to tread carefully, for Dalan was no fool.  
  
"Just keep an eye on Sinja-Bau for the time being," Lursan said, placing a hand on Dalan's shoulder and squeezing it. "Just to ensure that whatever she teaches the boy is in your best interest."  
  
Dalan nodded thoughtfully. Then he looked up at Lursan, his dark blue eyes, which had been blurry with drink, now suddenly sharp and clear.  
  
"And what of Onara?"  
  
"She is your wife." Lursan shrugged. "If she loves you and only you, as any man should believe is true of his beloved wife, and you are completely certain and convinced of it in your heart, there is nothing for you to fear regarding her, is there?"  
  
Dalan took a deep drink from his glass, then looked over at Onara's portrait, his eyes swimming with doubt.  
  
"No," he whispered, his voice was unsteady. "There is nothing for me to fear."  
  
Lursan smiled and patted Dalan on the shoulder. Then, noting Dalan's glass was once again empty, Lursan took it and poured more brandy into it.  
  
To be continued... 


	14. Part Fourteen

Stars in the Darkness - Part Fourteen  
  
-----------------  
  
Lord Sidious, his face partially hidden by his dark cowl, sat in a large, but comfortable, black and red chair, in a dark chamber deep within the bowels of Coruscant. His hands rested on the arms of his chair as he gazed at the flickering holo-image of Lord Tyranus, also known as Count Dooku of Serenno, which was being transmitted from Raxus Prime.  
  
Located on the Outer Rim, Raxus Prime had, like so many other worlds within the Republic, been transformed into nothing more than a dumping world. Its resources gutted by the many corporations that had used its wealth to provide the materials for whatever products they manufactured, Raxus Prime's surface was filled with the gutted and decaying hulls of ancient capital starships, huge pools of toxic sludge, and piles of refuse that rivaled those of its natural mountains. The atmosphere was hot and caustic, and an enduring cloud of foul-smelling gasses and fogs reduced visibility considerably.  
  
Yet, there were those who lived and thrived on Raxus Prime. Sienar Fleet Systems, a starship manufacturer, had a number of refinery and reclamations plants there, and scavenger species, like the Jawas, conducted extensive salvage operations as they combed through the garbage and debris, looking to reclaim and recondition useable machinery.  
  
It was from Raxus Prime that Count Dooku had commandeered a communications station and transmitted his message imploring systems within the Republic to join his Separatist movement. It had been broadcast throughout the Republic on a pirated channel of the HoloNet News and had, as Sidious knew it would, stirred up that hornet's nest known as the Galactic Senate.  
  
Now more and more anxious Senators were calling upon Chancellor Palpatine to help pass the Military Creation Act, which had recently been introduced into the Senate. The Act called for the creation of an Army of the Republic to counter the growing secession movement. However, immediately upon the Act's introduction, Senator Amidala of Naboo, with the aid of Viceroy Organa of Alderaan, formed the Campaign Against Republic Militarization, hoping to find a peaceful solution to the secession problem.  
  
Now, as Sidious stared silently at the patiently waiting bluish image of Lord Tyranus, his thoughts, as always, flowed along the interstices of the dark side of the Force, contemplating all that was happening within the galaxy. Sidious was privy to many things that were hidden to the Jedi who, as a result of the growing power of the dark side, were becoming weaker with each passing day. However, just as the Jedi were blind to the dark side, Sidious was blind to the light side. Two years ago his visions, which up until then had unfolded with such certainty, had become muddied; not by darkness, but by light.  
  
"There is a disturbance in the Force," he said finally.  
  
Tyranus' aristocratic face showed no emotion. "I have felt it too, my Master."  
  
"And have you also felt its source?"  
  
Sidious knew very well what the source of the disturbance was, but he regularly tested Tyranus. Count Dooku had once been a Jedi, one of their strongest, but Sidious suspected he wasn't as powerful an apprentice as the Dark Lord would eventually need and, therefore, would have to be replaced someday.  
  
"Obi-Wan Kenobi is the source," Tyranus replied.  
  
Sidious nodded slightly, pleased with the answer. Perhaps he would not have to replace Dooku too soon.  
  
"That is true, Lord Tyranus. But, can you tell me why he is the source of the disturbance?"  
  
"The woman. Senator Onara Lenor from Ahjane."  
  
"And the child," Sidious added. "Do not forget the child."  
  
Lord Tyranus nodded. Two years ago, Sidious had sent him to aid Onara's grandmother in her attempt to get her hands on Kenobi's son so that she could bring him up to one day rule Ahjane, with a little help from Sidious regarding his training. But the stupid woman had botched the entire operation and gotten herself killed in the process. Dismissing it at the time as a minor flux in the unfolding of his Grand Design, Sidious had turned his thoughts to other matters. But, of late, the disturbance in the Force centering around Kenobi was growing stronger. And there was also the problem of Anakin Skywalker.  
  
In all of Sidious' visions regarding Skywalker, he had foreseen a growing division between him and his master. A division Sidious had planned to exploit one day. However, over the past two years, instead of growing apart, as should have occurred according to Sidious' visions, Skywalker and Kenobi had become even closer, more like father and son than master and apprentice. This Sidious had not foreseen, and it troubled him greatly.  
  
"Master?" Tyranus said, breaking into his thoughts.  
  
"Yes, Lord Tyranus?"  
  
"If Kenobi is a danger to our plans, why do you not kill him?"  
  
Sidious laughed softly. That was one of the things he both admired and detested about Dooku. He preferred lopping off the heads of his enemies instead of delighting, as Sidious did, in the subtle and leisurely annihilation of them. Tyranus wanted those who opposed him out of the way quickly and efficiently, whereas Sidious enjoyed watching his enemies suffer. And the longer they suffered, the more he enjoyed it.  
  
Some years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi had killed Darth Maul, Sidious' first apprentice, and the Dark Lord had not forgotten that. Therefore, when it came time for Kenobi to pay for what he'd done, Sidious was determined the Jedi would suffer. But not physically, for Kenobi was very strong, both in body and with the Force. No, there was another way he would make the Jedi pay, a way that would leave him not only broken in mind, but in spirit.  
  
As a result of Kenobi's having participated, nearly three years ago, in that blessing ceremony on Ahjane, Sidious now had the means whereby he would not only exact his revenge for Maul's death, but one day bring Skywalker over to the dark side of the Force. The woman, Onara, and the child, Ben, as the Jedi Council and Sidious both knew, were Kenobi's weakness, and the key to Sidious' plan regarding the Jedi Knight.  
  
"No, I will not kill Master Kenobi, Lord Tyranus. At least not yet. His training of Skywalker is going well. I do not want that interfered with."  
  
Even through the flickering of the hologram, Sidious noted the rigid expression that moved across Tyranus' face at the mention of Skywalker. Although not entirely privy to Sidious' ultimate plans for the young Jedi, Tyranus also was no fool. The Sith tradition held that there could only be two dark lords, a master and an apprentice.  
  
If Sidious, therefore, hoped someday to make Skywalker his apprentice, it would mean replacing Tyranus and, although he had made it clear the boy was not to be harmed, Sidious also made it a point to ensure Tyranus never got it into this head to try and kill Skywalker himself. Now he waited to see what his apprentice would say.  
  
"Master," Tyranus began tentatively. "Are you absolutely certain Skywalker is essential to our plans? He is very strong with the Force, granted, but he's also quite unpredictable. As far as I've observed, he's nothing more than a brash, callow youth and could prove more of a liability than an asset."  
  
Sidious nodded. Tyranus was still concerned that someday he would be replaced by Skywalker.  
  
"Do not concern yourself with young Skywalker, Lord Tyranus. Leave him to me."  
  
Sidious saw Dooku wanted to say more, but wisely did not. He smiled. Yes, Dooku was no fool. He was smart and he was powerful and, as always, Sidious would continue to watch him carefully, for at the first sign of treachery or disobedience on his part, Sidious would then crush him like a fly.  
  
"What about Kenobi?" Tyranus asked instead.  
  
"Do not worry about him either," Sidious replied coolly. "When the time comes, I will deal with Master Kenobi. However, until then, keep an eye on Senator Lenor. She and her child will prove quite useful to us. Although," and Sidious smiled, but it was a cold, dead smile, "that should not prove too difficult a task, as pleasing to the eye as she is, true?"  
  
Tyranus nodded, smiling. "Quite true, my Master. She's certainly nothing like that grandmother of hers, the late and non-lamented Lady Tsara."  
  
"Indeed. Perhaps, if you desire it, when the time comes I shall give her to you."  
  
Sidious was well aware that Dooku, since leaving the Jedi Order, had indulged himself in a number of debauched and licentious diversions, especially those which had been forbidden to him during his long tenure as a Jedi. However, as long as those pleasures did not interfere with his work, Sidious allowed him to revel in them.  
  
"Thank you, my Master," Tyranus said, bowing slightly, his dark eyes glittering.  
  
"Senator Lenor's family will soon join her on Coruscant. When that happens I want you to find out if there is anyone close to her or her family who may prove useful to us."  
  
"Yes, my Master. You are aware, of course, that Sinja-Bau has been living in the Senator's household these past two years and is training Kenobi's son."  
  
Sidious pursed his lips. "Of course I'm aware of it," he snapped angrily, pleased to see a flicker of fear in Tyranus' eyes. "But I do not think she will be of any use to us. She may no longer be a member of the Jedi Order, but her devotion to the light side of the Force is still strong. No, find someone else. And, as you did with the Lady Tsara, do not make your presence known to anyone but your accomplice. As for Sinja-Bau, if she should prove to be an impediment to our plans, I will leave it to you to take care of her."  
  
Tyranus inclined his white-haired head. "Of course, my Master."  
  
"Remember, Lord Tyranus, our Grand Design is like a spider's web, each strand linked tightly to the other. We must move subtly, cunningly, as the spider does, so as not to rupture the structure or alert our enemies to our purpose, but once the web is complete, all will be snared within it, and those not caught within its mesh will be of no concern, for they will have been utterly destroyed."  
  
--------------  
  
"Ruhhrrowww!"  
  
The harsh, thunderous cry reverberated through the streets of De Ion. Anakin sighed, then groaned as Obi-Wan suddenly switched directions and headed toward the sound. Anakin followed him, but reluctantly. He and his master on been on Jurie for three weeks now, hunting down a band of outlaws who had been plaguing the small frontier towns. This current mission was just one among the dozens of hard, exhausting assignments they'd been given by the Council these last six months of their exile from Coruscant.  
  
They had finally captured the criminals, bringing them to De Ion, the largest settlement on Jurie, where they handed them over to the authorities, but the pursuit and capture of the outlaws had taken a toll on the Jedi. Not only were they both dead dog tired, each had suffered injuries as a result of their mission, with Obi-Wan's being the most serious, for he had been shot by a blaster in the same shoulder Anakin had accidentally wounded him in nearly three years ago.  
  
After having filed a report regarding their mission with De Ion's magistrate, a hard-faced woman named Aiza, who had thanked them, if rather frostily, for a job well-done, the two exhausted Jedi had been on their way to the local inn where quarters had been provided for them by the magistrate. Anakin had been looking forward to a hot, steaming bath, food he didn't have to kill in order to eat, and sleeping in a real bed instead of on the rough, cold ground, as he had been doing the last three weeks.  
  
But no, Anakin thought, as he hurried to catch up with Obi-Wan who was running towards the sound of that roar, and the now discernable voices of a crowd shouting, his master just had to go and see what the ruckus was all about even if he was still weak from his blaster wound, could barely keep his eyes open from having been unable to sleep because of his nightmares, and looked like some wild man in his dusty clothes and longish beard and hair. Even Anakin was sporting a bit of a bush about his chin for such amenities as shaving had been out of the question during their hunt for the outlaws.  
  
Having caught up with Obi-Wan, Anakin turned a corner with him. Both men stopped and stared. In the center of the town, around which the shops and taverns were located, a makeshift platform had recently been put up, for it had not been here three weeks ago when the Jedi first arrived on Jurie. Standing on the platform were a group of human males and in their midst, towering over them, was a two-meter tall Wookiee.  
  
It was the Wookiee who had been roaring and he was still doing so. Wrapped about his legs and arms were thick metal chains and, although the Wookiee struggled mightily to escape them, Anakin had a feeling those chains were made of mandalorian iron. Mandalorian iron was virtually indestructible, even to a lightsaber blade and, Anakin also knew, quite expensive, so he wondered who on this backend of the galaxy planet had the money to have afforded such large amounts of it.  
  
A crowd was gathered at the foot of the platform, and it looked as if the entire population of De Ion was present. Men, women, children, all of whom were human, for Jurie was one of those planets that had apparently only attracted humans during its colonization phase. That was one of the reasons Obi-Wan and Anakin had been assigned to Jurie.  
  
The magistrate of De Ion had specifically requested the Council send a human only Jedi team to the planet, a request that had disturbed both Obi- Wan and Anakin, but the two had done as instructed and come to Jurie. Therefore, seeing the tall, shaggy Wookiee on a planet populated only by humans not only shocked Anakin, but it troubled him too. Especially since said Wookiee was in chains and in a great deal of distress as he continued to struggle and roar.  
  
Glancing over at Obi-Wan, he saw his master was worried too. But, just as the two were about to make their way to the platform, a little boy on the edge of the crowd turned around and, spotting them, ran towards them. He was about six or seven, with a mop of unruly black hair and bright green eyes. He slid to a stop in from of them, dust ruffling about his boots.  
  
"Are you the Jedi?" he asked breathlessly.  
  
Obi-Wan crouched down, a smile nestled within his beard. Anakin smiled too. His master had the softest spot in his heart when it came to children now, especially any who reminded him of his son.  
  
"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan replied.  
  
The boy reached over and grabbed Obi-Wan's hand, his green eyes pleading.  
  
"Please, help my friend. They're going to kill him."  
  
Obi-Wan looked over at the platform, his eyes narrowing as the crowd at the foot of the platform screamed, shaking their fists at the howling Wookiee.  
  
"The Wookiee is your friend?"  
  
The boy nodded. "They're going to kill him. He didn't do nothing."  
  
Anakin leaned down. "But if he didn't do anything, why do they want to kill him?"  
  
The boy wiped at his nose with a grimy hand, leaving a smudge across his face.  
  
"I don't know," he sniffed. "They say he's...he's nothing but a dirty, rotten animal and he don't belong around decent folks."  
  
"Who said that?" Obi-Wan asked gently.  
  
The boy gazed at Obi-Wan for a long moment, his green eyes shimmering.  
  
"My Pa did," he said in a low, trembling voice.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "Is your father one of the men on the platform?  
  
"Yes." The boy pointed to a short, barrel-chested man with long black hair standing on the platform next to the Wookiee. He held a high-powered blaster rifle in the crook of his arm. "That's Pa."  
  
Obi-Wan rose from where he'd been crouching as he spoke with the boy but, just as he started to walk towards the platform, Anakin quickly grabbed his arm.  
  
"Master, no. You need to rest."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at Anakin as he reached over and gently removed Anakin's hand from around his arm.  
  
"I'm fine, Padawan. Don't worry. And we must look into this. It doesn't feel right, does it?"  
  
Anakin shook his head. No, it didn't feel right, and as he looked down at the boy who was gazing raptly up at him and Obi-Wan, hoping, like so many in the galaxy, that the Jedi would make everything all right, he knew they couldn't just turn anyway, no matter how worried Anakin was about Obi-Wan's physical condition.  
  
His poor, exhausted master was holding himself together merely by the strength of his indomitable will. The last six months since they'd left Coruscant had been grueling ones, with this assignment on Jurie the most taxing of all. For that reason, as the two of them, accompanied by the boy, made their way towards the crowd, Anakin fervently hoped he and his master found a way to resolve this situation quickly and peaceably so Obi-Wan could finally get the rest he so desperately needed.  
  
-------------  
  
Onara grunted as she slammed onto the mat, the breath whooshing out of chest. She stared for a moment up at the green and blue ceiling of the gymnasium, wondering what had possessed her to take Padmé up on her offer to join her and her handmaidens in their weekly martial arts workouts.  
  
"Are you all right, Onara?"  
  
Onara looked over to where Padmé, dressed like her in traditional Naboo training clothes of loose yellow jacket and pants, her hair, like Onara's, pulled back in a pony tail, gazed worriedly down at her. Just behind Padmé stood Cordé, Dormé and Keria.  
  
"Yes, I think so," Onara said slowly as she sat up.  
  
Keria ran over, putting her arm around her mistress's shoulders, but Onara brushed her gently away.  
  
"No, no, Keria. I'm fine."  
  
"If you say so, milady," Keria replied uncertainly, moving away so Onara could regain her feet on her own.  
  
Once she was again standing, Onara adjusted her training jacket, then gave Padmé a wide smile who, relieved to see her friend wasn't hurt, quickly returned it.  
  
"I'm sorry, Onara. I must have gotten a bit carried away on that last throw," Padmé said, her dark eyes dancing.  
  
"A bit?" Dormé offered with a chuckle. "Really, milady. If you want Onara and Keria to join us again in our workouts, you'd better tone down what you consider a bit."  
  
Padmé looked sheepishly over at Onara, who was vigorously shaking her head.  
  
"No, if I'm going to learn how to do this," she said firmly, "I don't want you pulling any punches, Padmé. If someone were going to attack me for real, would they tone it down a bit?"  
  
Padmé and Dormé exchanged anxious glances. Onara knew they were thinking of the recent death threats she'd received, which could only be related to her work on the Ethics Committee, for there was nothing else she had done these past six months on Coruscant to have warranted them.  
  
Her work as a representative for Ahjane had generally involved welcoming visitors from her homeworld to Coruscant and voting on some minor bills. When Onara had accepted the appointment to the Ethics Committee, however, she'd had no idea just how much corruption there was within the Senate, but she soon found out it. It was enormous.  
  
Ranging from the acceptance of inappropriate gifts, conflicts of interest, unreported financial disclosures, illegal campaign financing, bribery and kick-backs, most of Onara's time on Coruscant had been spent on the Committee, with her having to work long hours into the night, poring over datacards and computer files as she, Viceroy Organa and the other committee members worked to assemble the evidence to bring those who had violated the Senate's Code of Ethics to account.  
  
But it had been like stopping up a dam whose floodgates had burst open, because the tide of corruption, bribery and vice among the Senate members was not a merely a flood, it was a deluge, and Onara felt as if she were drowning in it. No wonder Obi-Wan had been so critical of the government. She had seen enough evidence these past six months to have warranted his cynicism.  
  
Moving back into the opening position for the kata Padmé had been demonstrating, Onara willed herself to concentrate on the exercise. But it was very difficult for there was so much on her mind of late. Besides the threats against her life and her growing frustration regarding the high level of corruption in the Senate, there were also her worries about Obi- Wan, Dalan and Ben.  
  
Obi-Wan and Anakin had been gone from Coruscant for six months, and neither Onara nor Padmé had heard from either of them. Onara couldn't help thinking it was her fault Obi-Wan had been sent away and, every night, when she wrapped the shawl he had given her around her shoulders, she wondered how he was doing, and if he was suffering in any way for the galaxy had become a very dangerous place of late, and even the Jedi were hard pressed to keep a handle on it.  
  
As for Dalan, his friendship with this man Lursan, which had concerned Sinja-Bau so much she had finally written Onara about it, did not seem to be lessening. According to Sinja-Bau, Lursan was still a frequent visitor to the manor and Dalan was still drinking. When Onara had asked in her weekly communiqué to Ahjane how it was affecting Ben, Sinja-Bau responded he didn't seem to have noticed anything was amiss with Dalan, but he did miss Onara greatly. Onara's heart hurt every time she thought of her son, for she missed him just as much.  
  
Padmé, her dark eyes narrowed, suddenly grabbed Onara's shoulder, initiating the move that, once again, should have put Onara on her back on the mat, but Onara was ready this time. She countered Padmé's movement, and it was the Naboo Senator who was thrown onto the mat, not Onara.  
  
"Well done," Dormé cried as she, Cordé and Keria clapped.  
  
Padmé, who was grinning from where she lay on the mat, took Onara's hand as she offered it to her.  
  
"Yes, well done, Onara," she said, standing up. "Would you like to do some more?"  
  
Onara glanced over at Keria.  
  
"We have time, milady," the blonde handmaiden replied. "The starliner won't be arriving for another five hours."  
  
Onara nodded. That was another reason she had taken Padmé up on her offer to join her in the gym. Ben was on that starliner, along with Dalan, Sinja- Bau and, disturbingly, that Lursan fellow. No longer able to stand being parted from her son, Onara had asked Dalan to bring him to Coruscant. Ben was nearly three years old and, although six months wasn't a long time, it was nearly a lifetime in the life of a child and she had already missed so much of his growing up.  
  
Dalan, however, as he had been doing the past several months, had hemmed and hawed, coming up with all kinds of excuses as to why Ben should not come to Coruscant. Onara had finally had enough and sent her husband a very heated message, demanding he bring Ben to Coruscant or she would come and get him herself. Dalan had finally agreed, and Onara had received assurances from Viceroy Organa, Chancellor Palpatine and, surprisingly, Master Yoda, that all would be done to ensure her son's safety, despite the threats against her.  
  
Unable to remain at her apartment as she'd been too excited to do anything but pace the floor, Onara had eagerly accepted Padmé's invitation to the gym, believing the physical exercise would be a distraction. It hadn't, unfortunately, but it did relieve some of her frustration at how slowly the time was passing. Therefore, as she bowed to Padmé, Onara moved quickly into the opening position for another kata, telling herself that soon, very soon, her son would finally be in her arms.  
  
To be continued... 


	15. Part Fifteen

Hi! Thanks, again, everyone, for your kind words. They are really helping me cope with my lay-off. I'll do my best to get updates to the fic done, but they won't be coming as often as they used to as I focus on finding a way to support myself. But, I will keep writing this fic for as long as I can. :)  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Fifteen  
  
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Anakin's hand strayed to the lightsaber at his side as he, Obi-Wan and the little boy made their way through the crowd to the front of the platform. The townspeople were so focused on the men and the Wookiee they took no notice of the Jedi until Obi-Wan walked up the steps of the platform. Anakin, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and instructing him to wait, followed his master.  
  
At the sight of Obi-Wan and Anakin, not only the crowd, but the Wookiee abruptly became silent. Although Anakin suspected the two of them must look a sight in their dusty clothes and scruffy appearance, having only recently come out of the wilderness, they were still recognizable as Jedi, but whether that would help in this particular situation he wasn't so sure. The men surrounding the chained-up Wookiee, especially the one the little boy had identified as Pa, glared as he and Obi-Wan approached them.  
  
"Greetings," Obi-Wan said. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is my apprentice, Anakin Skywalker."  
  
The boy's father, his black eyes burning, walked over until he was just in front of Obi-Wan. Being somewhat shorter than the Jedi Knight, he had to look up at him.  
  
"What do you want, Jedi? This is none of your affair. You have no jurisdiction here."  
  
Anakin snorted, earning a quick glance from Obi-Wan, but he couldn't help it. It was true the Jedi had no real jurisdiction on Jurie in that the planet was not an official member of the Republic. It did have a treaty with the Republic, which stipulated that, in exchange for some mining rights, Jurie could call upon the Jedi when needed, as had happened in this case. But now that their job here was done, it seemed he and his master were no longer welcome.  
  
"I'm afraid you're wrong," Obi-Wan replied calmly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"That Wookiee is a citizen of the Republic and, as a representative of the Republic, I must look into why he is being treated in such a manner."  
  
The man's dark eyes grew even hotter at Obi-Wan's words.  
  
"A citizen?" he sneered. "That dirty animal is a citizen?" His lips curled with disgust. "If you ask me that's what's wrong with the Republic. When things like that can be thought of as being equal to a human."  
  
A muscle jumped in Obi-Wan's jaw and his blue-gray eyes flared.  
  
"He is not an animal," he replied calmly, although Anakin would not have wanted to be the recipient of the look Obi-Wan gave the man. "He is a Wookiee, a native of Kashyyyk and a sentient being. And, as I stated before, a citizen of the Republic. Therefore, I demand to know why he is being treated in this manner."  
  
Suddenly the Wookiee, who had been silent, started roaring again, but he was directing his roars toward Obi-Wan and Anakin. Moving past the dark- haired man, Obi-Wan went over to the Wookiee and, his head tilted to the side, looked as if he was listening to the Wookiee who, having snared the Jedi's attention, was growling and roaring even faster.  
  
Then, to Anakin's utter surprise, Obi-Wan responded in what sounded like a series of growls, the sounds coming from the back of his throat. A wide smile split the Wookiee's hairy face and he responded back. Obi-Wan and the Wookiee exchanged a few more words, then Obi-Wan turned away. His face was a thundercloud.  
  
"I want him released. Immediately," he snapped at the dark-haired man.  
  
The man thrust his face up into Obi-Wan's, his hands moving threateningly over his blaster rifle.  
  
"You don't give the orders here, Jedi."  
  
"You are holding him illegally and I want him released. Now."  
  
"Illegally?" the man snarled.  
  
"He's done nothing wrong," Obi-Wan retorted.  
  
"What do you mean? He's a dirty, stinking thief. I caught him loading a cache of fusioncutters from my store onto his ship. I didn't give them to him. He stole them."  
  
"No, Pa! That's not true."  
  
Anakin turned and looked down. The boy who had spoken to them earlier was pushing his way through the crowd and up onto the platform. His bright green eyes were even brighter with fear as he ran over to his father who glared down at him.  
  
"What do you mean? It's not true."  
  
The boy swallowed heavily, then glanced guiltily between Obi-Wan and Anakin. "I...I...gave them to him, Pa."  
  
"You what?" his father shouted.  
  
"I gave them to him. I...I didn't think you'd miss them."  
  
The man stared down aghast at the boy. Then he squatted down, putting his hand on his son's shoulder. "Toma, why would you do such a thing?"  
  
The boy shrugged. "I like him, Pa. He's nice."  
  
"But he's an animal."  
  
Toma shook his head. "No, Pa. He's not. He's my friend."  
  
The man stared at his son for a long moment. Then he looked over at Obi- Wan. A look of belligerence remained on his face, but Anakin could see he knew he no longer had a legitimate reason for keeping the Wookiee in custody. With a curt gesture, he motioned for the chains about the Wookiee to be unlocked. It was done so quickly, and with a mighty roar, the Wookiee raised his long arms above his head.  
  
All the men on the platform backed away, including the dark-haired man, his arm protectively around his son's shoulder. Toma, however, was grinning widely at the Wookiee as he continued to make his anger over his having been treated in such a way known to all concerned. Toma's father raised his blaster rifle, aiming at the Wookiee, but Obi-Wan reached for it with the Force and jerked it from the man's hand.  
  
"Go home," he said quietly.  
  
The man stared at him for a moment, then nodded brusquely. Obi-Wan handed him the rifle back and, after picking up the chains, which apparently belonged to him, steered his son off the platform, walked down the stairs and, with the rest of the townspeople, left the square. Just before they turned the corner, Toma squirmed from under his father's arm and waved back at the Wookiee.  
  
"Bye, bye!" he shouted. "Come back and see me sometime!"  
  
The Wookiee roared in return, waving one of his big, hairy paws. Toma's father angrily grabbed the boy by his shirt collar and jerked him around the corner and out of sight. Soon, only Anakin, Obi-Wan and the Wookiee remained.  
  
Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan. "I didn't know you spoke Shyriiwook."  
  
Obi-Wan grinned. "There's a lot about me you don't know. Padawan. Remember that."  
  
Anakin nodded. He would. Despite all the years they'd spent together, his master still managed to surprise him. He looked over at the Wookiee.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said quickly. "Anakin Skywalker, may I present Chewbacca."  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Chewbacca," Anakin said, bowing to the Wookiee.  
  
Chewbacca roared in return, his blue eyes regarding Anakin with delight.  
  
"He says he's pleased to meet you also," Obi-Wan translated.  
  
Anakin grinned back at the large Wookiee. He'd only met a few, most of them on Tatooine but he'd never tried to learn his language. Maybe he would now.  
  
"Master, if Chewbacca doesn't mind my asking, of course, but what in blazes was he doing here? These people are crazy!"  
  
"He already told me, Anakin. His ship was damaged in an asteroid field. He'd stopped here to make repairs unaware, of course, that the residents were...." and a look of distaste moved across Obi-Wan's face"...so unaccommodating to non-humans."  
  
"And that's when he met Toma?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "Chewbacca is a trader and the boy offered him the fusioncutters in exchange for some holobooks he'd picked up on Selstris."  
  
"Well, I'm glad everything turned out all right, but I think the sooner Chewbacca gets off this rock, the better."  
  
Chewbacca growled in agreement, slapping Anakin companionably on the shoulder. Obi-Wan watched them, smiling, then suddenly, he grunted, listing somewhat to the side.  
  
"Master!" Anakin cried, but before he could get to Obi-Wan's side, Chewbacca was there. Obi-Wan leaned against the Wookiee for a moment, taking in a deep breath.  
  
"I'm fine, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, but Anakin could see he was not. Obi-Wan's face was pale and his eyes, which were normally a bright blue- gray, were shadowed.  
  
"No, you're not, Master. You're exhausted and you need rest and food," Anakin scolded.  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling weakly. "You sound like a mother nuna, Padawan."  
  
"Humph!" was all Anakin said.  
  
Obi-Wan could insult him all he wanted, but he was going to make sure that there were no more distractions for his master. He was going to get some rest even if Anakin had to carry him to the inn. He went over to take Obi- Wan's arm and lead him away, but before he could, Chewbacca swept Obi-Wan up in his arms. The Jedi Knight's eyes widened.  
  
"What do you think you're doing? Put me down this instant!"  
  
Chewbacca growled at Anakin, gesturing with his head that Anakin should lead the way. Anakin grinned at Obi-Wan who was struggling to get out of the Wookiee's arms, but to no avail.  
  
"I think you'd better lie still, Master. It's not wise to upset a Wookiee and he appears quite determined to carry you to the inn."  
  
"This is ridiculous," Obi-Wan muttered as Chewbacca carried him down the steps of the platform. He glared over at Anakin. "And if you tell anyone..."  
  
Anakin assumed a look of total innocence. "Who me? Tell anyone? Why, Master. I'm terribly hurt to know that you don't trust me."  
  
He laughed softly, however, at the picture of his master being carried like a child in the Wookiee's big arms. And, mentally rubbing his hands together, couldn't wait until he got back to Coruscant. He only wish he had a holocamera with him.  
  
---------------------  
  
Anakin drummed his fingers across the table. He was in the common area of the rooms provided for him and Obi-Wan in the inn. He had finally gotten Obi-Wan, after Chewbacca had brought him to his room, to eat and sleep, but it was apparent Obi-Wan needed more than just one night's rest. He needed weeks of it. He needed to get back to Coruscant. As a result, Anakin had used the comm station in the common area to send a message to the Jedi Temple, demanding to speak with Master Yoda, but he had been put on hold, for Sith's sake! Finally, the wizened face of the Jedi Master appeared on the screen.  
  
"Padawan Skywalker."  
  
"Master Yoda."  
  
"How may I help you?"  
  
Anakin took a deep breath. He knew he had a quick temper, but Obi-Wan had done much over the years to help him control it, but he couldn't help but feel frustrated over the way Obi-Wan had been treated by the Jedi Council. It was bad enough he'd been sent away from Coruscant, but he should never have been required to stay out in the field this long.  
  
"I want to bring Master Obi-Wan home."  
  
"Home?"  
  
"Yes. Immediately. He needs rest, lots of it."  
  
"Hmmm, I see. Tiring your missions have been?"  
  
Anakin gritted his teeth. _Of course they'd been tiring, you old troll! You sent us on them._ But, again, Anakin struggled to control his anger.  
  
"Yes, very tiring, Master Yoda. And my master was injured on this last assignment. Therefore, I insist that I be allowed to bring---"  
  
"Return to Coruscant, you shall."  
  
"....him home right now. And I don't care what the Council---what did you say?"  
  
"Bring Master Obi-Wan home. Correct you are, Padawan Skywalker. Rest he needs."  
  
"Oh, well, yes, good. I will. Right away."  
  
Yoda nodded. He cut the transmission. Anakin rose from the table. Chewbacca, who was lying on the couch snoring, didn't stir as Anakin moved past him to Obi-Wan's bedroom. Obi-Wan had invited the Wookiee to stay with them, despite the looks the manager of the inn had given them. He'd thought it would be more comfortable than sleeping on his ship.  
  
Opening the door gently, Anakin peered in. The only light came from Jurie's solitary moon, which shone through a window next to Obi-Wan's bed. Anakin walked over, moving as silently as a shadow so as not to disturb his master. Looking down he saw that Obi-Wan's face was twitching. Another nightmare, Anakin thought sadly. He reached down and gently stroked his master's moon-limned hair. Then he heard Obi-Wan breath a single word.  
  
"Onara."  
  
"Don't worry, Master," Anakin said softly as he moved his hand away. "You'll see her soon."  
  
To be continued.... 


	16. Part Sixteen

Thanks, everyone, so much for your very kind words. I got another part done a lot faster than I had expected, so here it is. :)  
  
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Stars in the Darkness - Part Sixteen  
  
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Padmé smiled at Onara. The Ahjane Senator was literally dancing on her toes as she waited for the passengers to disembark from the starliner. After their workout at the gym, Padmé had timidly asked Onara if she'd like some company when she went to meet her family at the starport. Padmé had not wanted to intrude, but she was very eager to meet Onara's son. Therefore, she was pleasantly surprised when Onara grabbed her hands and squeezed them, begging her to come.  
  
Now the two women were waiting for the huge doors of the starliner to open. Keria was back at Padmé's apartment with her handmaidens. Onara had thought it best not to have too many people at the starport so as not to overwhelm Ben. They were standing amid a large crowd of people who were also waiting for the passengers to disembark. Included among the crowd were two Senate guards, standing nearby, resplendent in their shiny blue helmets and dark blue robes, both carrying stun rifles.  
  
When the Chancellor had offered Onara protection for Ben's arrival on Coruscant, Padmé had been afraid he was going to provide Onara with some of his mysterious Red Guard. But they, she reminded herself, were the Chancellor's personal guard, and she was very glad they were not present. Not much was known about the Red Guard, for Palpatine kept the details of their training secret, citing security concerns, but they made Padmé nervous. Unlike the Senatorial Blue Guards, the Chancellor's Red Guard carried force pikes instead of stun rifles. In addition to their rich red cloaks, they wore red metal face shields, which hid their identities and only added to the unease Padmé felt around them.  
  
Shaking her head to rid her thoughts of the Red Guard, Padmé noted a number of people glancing curiously at the Blue Guards, who only stood stoically, but alertly near Onara who, although grateful for their presence, ignored them as she gazed hungrily at the starliner.  
  
Finally the passenger doors opened. Onara moved further along the wide ramp that extended from the starport terminal to the starliner, Padmé next to her, the Blue Guards slightly behind them. As the passengers emerged from the starliner door, knots of people disengaged from the crowd surrounding Padmé and Onara and ran to greet a loved one.  
  
Padmé smiled widely as a group of portly, blue-skinned Ortolans greeted another Ortolan. Touching each other with their trunklike noses, they appeared to be speaking to each other silently, but Padmé knew their sensitive ears picked up sound waves from the subsonic to the ultrasonic, and their language was usually carried out at these extreme frequencies.  
  
"Mama!"  
  
A young, joyous voice cried out from within the crowd of people coming off the starliner. Then Padmé saw a blur of movement rush into Onara's arms.  
  
"Mama! Mama!"  
  
"Ben, darling! Ben!"  
  
Onara had her arms around a dark-haired boy of about three who clung tightly to her. She lifted him up and spun him around as tears spilled down her face.  
  
"Oh, Ben, my darling. I've missed you so very, very much."  
  
"I missed you too, Mama," Padmé heard Ben say, his voice muffled for his face was nestled deep in Onara's neck.  
  
Padmé felt tears welling in her own eyes as she watched the longed-for reunion of Onara and her son. The two continued to cling to each other as if their very lives depended on it. Then, finally, Ben pulled away. He gently touched his mother's face with the tips of his fingers, noting the tears on them.  
  
"Don't cry, Mama. Please, don't cry."  
  
"I'm sorry, Ben," Onara sniffed. "But they're not tears of sadness, they're tears of happiness."  
  
"People cry when they're happy?"  
  
"Oh, yes, darling, they do."  
  
"But, Mama, I'm happy and I'm not crying. Am I doing something wrong?"  
  
Onara smiled and kissed Ben on his cheek. "Of course not, dear. People don't cry all the times they're happy. Just sometimes."  
  
Ben nodded, then looked over at Padmé, and it was at that moment Padmé saw what she had only vaguely perceived when she saw Ben's portrait that day in Onara's apartment. Now that he was here in the flesh, however, the realization hit her so hard she felt as if she were being knocked over by it.  
  
Except for his rich, black hair, Ben was almost the spitting image of Master Kenobi. He had Obi-Wan's same alluring blue-gray eyes and, now that he was older, it was all the more evident how much he resembled the Jedi Knight. He even had a small cleft in his chin.  
  
"Hi," he said smiling as gazed at her, and even his smile, Padmé noted, resembled that of the Jedi's. "My name is Ben."  
  
Padmé walked over, returning his smile. "It's nice to meet you Ben. I'm Padmé."  
  
Ben cocked his head at her. "You look like my Mama."  
  
"Do I? Then I'm very flattered," she replied warmly. "Your mother is very beautiful."  
  
Ben nodded as he looked over at Onara. "She's the most beautiful Mama in the galaxy."  
  
"Oh, Ben," Onara said laughing as she kissed him again on his cheek.  
  
Then Padmé saw Onara's smile fade away as a tall, handsome, dark-haired man with deep blue eyes approached her. Glancing between her and Padmé the man said nothing as he stopped before them. Onara, who continued to hold Ben in her arms, only gazed silently at him. Padmé felt a definite tension between the two, but it was broken when Ben looked over at the man.  
  
"Papa, look. It's Mama!"  
  
The man smiled at Ben, but his smile left his face when his eyes returned to Onara.  
  
"Onara," he said in a formal voice.  
  
"Dalan," Onara replied just as formally.  
  
For an awkward moment neither said nothing more, and only Ben seemed oblivious to what was going on. Then two other people approached the group. One was an older, silver-haired woman with startling blue-green eyes. A few steps behind her walked a man, dark of hair, dressed in elegant, but understated clothes. His storm-gray eyes raked across the group.  
  
"Bau-Bau," Ben cried to the silver-haired woman. "It's Mama. She's here."  
  
"I see her, Ben," the woman said warmly as she went over and kissed Onara on the cheek. "It's so good to see you, Onara. You look so lovely."  
  
"Thank you, Sinja-Bau. And I'm glad to see you, too."  
  
Then Onara looked over to where Padmé was standing nearby.  
  
"Padmé, please, let me introduce you. This is my husband, Dalan."  
  
Dalan took Padmé's hand and bowed over it. "A pleasure to meet you, Senator Amidala."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"And this is Sinja-Bau, Ben's tutor."  
  
Padmé took the hand Sinja-Bau offered and shook it. Onara had told her about the ex-Jedi, about how she had once gone mad and, consequently, been cast out of the Jedi Order, her Force abilities stripped from her. But Obi- Wan had found her and brought her back to cure Onara. As a result, her sanity and her Force powers had been restored to her.  
  
"A pleasure to meet you, Sinja-Bau."  
  
"And you also, Senator," Sinja-Bau said warmly, although Padmé noted a strange expression on the Jedi woman's face as she gazed at her.  
  
Releasing Sinja-Bau's hand, Padmé looked over at Onara who was staring at the dark-haired man next to Sinja-Bau, a frown creasing her smooth brow. Dalan, noting where she was looking, gestured towards the man.  
  
"This is Lursan, a business associate of mine."  
  
Onara nodded curtly, but said nothing. Her coolness towards him did not appear to faze Lursan, however. He went over and smoothly took Onara's hand, although she seemed reluctant for him to have it. He bowed over it and, rising, gave her a wide smile.  
  
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Senator. I do hope we can find some time to meet and talk," he said, his slick manner and speech reminding Padmé of some of the more conniving of her senatorial colleagues. "There are a few things I'd like to discuss with you regarding Ahjane."  
  
Onara drew her hand away from Lursan's. "You'll have to contact my office and set up an appointment," she replied in an impersonal voice.  
  
Lursan's gray eyes sharpened, his face tightening, as if he took great offense at Onara treating him like one of her constituents instead of someone special, but he quickly smoothed his face out.  
  
"Of course, Senator. I understand how busy you are."  
  
He stepped back and moved next to Dalan who, Padmé saw, was staring at Onara with an irritated look. Onara glanced at her husband, saw his stern expression and frowned at him, her dark eyes burning. Ben, now aware of the tension between his parents, glanced worriedly between them.  
  
Sinja-Bau moved over to Onara, her hand inside a pocket of her dress. She took out of it a furry ball, which extended eight spindly legs as she placed it on Ben's palm. Padmé saw with delight it was a voorpak.  
  
"Obi-Wan!" Ben cried. "That's where you've been hiding!"  
  
Onara set Ben on the ground as he held the voorpak in his hands, beaming down at it. Then he raised the voorpak up and turned around.  
  
"Look, Obi-Wan, we're on Coruscant."  
  
The voorpak, its bright eyes blinking as it stood on Ben's hands, appeared to be looking around. Satisfied his pet had gotten a good look at the planet-wide city, Ben lowered his arms. Then he noticed the two Blue Guards standing nearby.  
  
"Mama," he cried, pulling on Onara's arm as he pointed at the Senate Guards. "Are they Jedi?"  
  
"No, darling. They're guards from the Senate."  
  
"Oh," Ben said in a disappointed voice. Then his face brightened. "Can we go to the Jedi Temple today? I want to see Obi-Wan. The real Obi-Wan."  
  
Onara smiled and stroked his face. "Not today, I'm afraid."  
  
Ben's face fell again. Onara knelt down and took his arms, squeezing them gently.  
  
"But, we've been invited to the Temple the day after tomorrow."  
  
Ben's face lit up, his blue-gray eyes shining. "Really, Mama? Will Obi-Wan be there?"  
  
A soft shadow fell across Onara's face. "I don't know, darling. Obi-Wan's been away for a long time."  
  
"Oh, he has? Has he been fighting space dragons?" Ben asked, both disappointment and hope in his voice.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know, dear. But there are lots of other Jedi at the Temple. You'll get to meet them."  
  
Ben looked down at the ground for a moment, then raised his head.  
  
"All right, Mama," he said in a soft voice. "But maybe Obi-Wan will come back soon, and then I'll get to see him."  
  
Onara glanced up to where Dalan was staring at her and Ben. Her husband's eyes were even colder than before. She rose and took Ben's hand.  
  
"Come, darling. Don't you want to see where Mama lives on Coruscant?"  
  
Ben nodded eagerly. With his pet voorpak now riding on his shoulder, he reached over and, to Padmé's surprise and delight, took her hand. Padmé glanced over at Onara, who gave her warm smile. As the two women, with Ben between them, along with Sinja-Bau, made their way to the starport's terminal exit, the two Blue Guard silently following, Padmé heard Lursan telling Dalan he had made his own arrangements for lodgings on Coruscant and would see him later.  
  
As they exited the starport terminal and made their way to where an air-van waited to take them to Onara's apartment, Padmé was glad Lursan wasn't coming with them. There was something about him she did not like, although she was unable to put her finger on exactly what it was. Then, as Dalan caught up with them and she looked over at his handsome, but aloof profile, she sensed there was something about Onara's husband that didn't feel right either.  
  
To be continued.... 


	17. Part Seventeen

Stars in the Darkness - Part Seventeen  
  
---------------  
  
Sinja-Bau took a deep breath. She and Ben were standing just outside the great doors to the Jedi Temple. She had intended to never come here again, but when Onara asked her to take Ben to the Temple, she was unable to refuse the distressed young woman. And, since the visit had been delayed nearly a week because of what Sinja-Bau liked to think of as Dalan's foolishness, and Ben had taken each day's delay with a child's heartbreaking awareness he lived in a world where everything, it seemed, was out of his control, Sinja-Bau had felt even more compelled to accompany him.  
  
As for Dalan, ever since he had arrived on Coruscant his behavior had become more and more erratic. He and Onara had spent nearly evening of the past week arguing; first about Onara's treatment of Lursan at the starport, then about Dalan having changed Ben's name from Ben Gavon Kenobi to Ben Gavon Lenor, and having done so without Onara's knowledge or permission. Finally, last night, after having spent most of the evening with Lursan, Dalan had brought up Onara's miscarriage, once again accusing her of not wanting to have any child of his.  
  
That argument had proven the bitterest of all. The next day, when Ben was finally scheduled to visit the Jedi Temple, Onara, her lovely face pale and drawn, had come out of her bedroom and asked Sinja-Bau, who was helping Keria prepare breakfast, if she wouldn't mind taking Ben instead. Although Sinja-Bau had great sympathy for Onara's plight, the ex-Jedi's instinctive reaction had been one of trepidation, for she had vowed never to return to the Temple. She'd almost suggested Dalan take him, but not only had he left the apartment early, gone only the Ancients knew where, she'd also recognized that the Jedi Temple was the last place Dalan needed to be.  
  
And, she recalled, as she and Ben waited for the doors to the Temple to open, how could she have refused Onara her request when, with soft shadows under her dark eyes, she had gamely tried to pretend everything was all right for Ben's sake. And, Ben, whom Sinja-Bau suspected was very much aware of what was going on between his parents, but not wanting Onara to know he did, had gently smiled and patted his mother's hand.  
  
"It's okay, Mama," he said. "I understand. Do you want me to tell Obi-Wan hello for you when I see him?"  
  
Onara had stared at Ben for a moment, her dark eyes, Sinja-Bau had observed with a sinking heart, swimming with a torrent of emotions. Then she had reached over and hugged Ben, kissing his cheek.  
  
"Oh, darling, that would be so sweet of you. Yes, tell him I said hello."  
  
"I will, Mama. I promise."  
  
Now, as Sinja-Bau gazed up at the five spires of the Temple, a flood of memories washed over her. Some unpleasant, but most of them, surprisingly, pleasant. And, as the massive doors to the Temple slowly opened and she walked through them after so many years away, Ben's hand in hers, Sinja-Bau was struck by how much she had missed it.  
  
The two entered a large foyer and Sinja-Bau remembered how the Temple had always been a place of light and space, its ancient designers having wanted all who moved through its spacious corridors and wide halls to never forget what the Temple's main purpose was: a place where students from all over the galaxy could come and learn about and, hopefully, master that mysterious energy known as the Force. As a result, light streamed in from everywhere. Looking over at Ben, Sinja-Bau clearly saw the awe in his face.  
  
"You really lived here, Bau-Bau?" he asked in a breathless voice as he looked around, his eyes wide.  
  
"Yes, Ben. I did."  
  
"It's...it's...."  
  
But Ben said no more, and Sinja-Bau suspected he could not because, as bright as he was, he had no words with which to describe what he was feeling. Sinja-Bau smiled at him, glad to see, at least for now, he seemed to have forgotten the tension at home.  
  
During their ride on the air-tram he had been unusually quiet, occasionally propping his little face in his hand as he stared out at the passing cityscape of Coruscant, his normally bright eyes dim. But he was once again the Ben she had come to love with all her heart, almost burning like a flame with his natural curiosity and wonder.  
  
"Welcome to the Jedi Temple," a voice said from behind.  
  
Sinja-Bau turned around. A young human female with sparkling green eyes and short brown hair stood behind them. She looked to about twelve.  
  
"My name is Glynon," she went on in a soft, melodious voice. "I'm to escort you to Master Yoda."  
  
Ben let go of Sinja-Bau's hand and moved closer to the girl.  
  
"Hi. My name is Ben. Are you a Jedi?"  
  
Glynon laughed and her laughter reminded Sinja-Bau of tinkling bells. The girl knelt down so that she and Ben were face to face.  
  
"It's very nice to meet you, Ben," she said warmly as she took his hand and shook it. "And, to answer your question, I'm not a Jedi yet. But, I've recently been chosen to become a padawan."  
  
Ben nodded. "Mama told me about them. Do you have a master?"  
  
"Yes. Her name is Tulasi Mobin."  
  
Sinja-Bau started at the name. "Tulasi? Is she here?"  
  
Glynon looked over at Sinja-Bau, her green eyes puzzled. "No, she left a few days ago, after my padawan acceptance ceremony. But, she'll be back in a week or so."  
  
Tulasi Mobin was a contemporary of Sinja-Bau. The two had known each other since they were younglings. Sinja-Bau knew Tulasi rarely visited Coruscant, preferring to follow wherever the Force led her, and only came to the Temple to choose new apprentices or to present her Padawans for their tests of Knighthood.  
  
"Shall I tell her you inquired after her?" Glynon asked politely.  
  
Sinja-Bau nodded.  
  
"And your name?"  
  
Sinja-Bau hesitated. Glynon was young, but she had probably heard the stories about Sinja-Bau's madness and resultant expulsion from the Order. Anakin certainly had, and he wasn't much older than this child. Then she felt Ben tugging on her hand. She glanced down. His blue-gray eyes looked up at her with concern for he had picked up on her feelings of distress.  
  
"Are you all right, Bau-Bau?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine, dear," she said, smiling down at him and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She then lifted her chin and looked directly at Glynon. "Tell her Sinja-Bau asked after her."  
  
Glynon only nodded. "Of course. If you'll please follow me, I'll take you to Master Yoda."  
  
As Sinja-Bau followed Glynon, Ben's hand in hers, she quickly released a breath she had not even realized she'd been holding.  
  
------------------  
  
Glynon took them through a corridor and down a wide staircase. Sinja-Bau looked at the deep blue carpet and the large statuary of famous Jedi of the past that lined the walls. Her memories were now a tidal wave and she was drowning in them. All those years she had spent here as a youngling, a padawan, a Knight, and then master to her own apprentice, the gentle Master Eo who had died on Ahjane protecting this child of light whose hand she now held as they walked down the staircase. Glynon then led them to a wide- windowed veranda that jutted out from the Temple and, as they approached it, Sinja-Bau heard a voice that caused her heart to beat madly.  
  
"Feel the Force," the gravelly voice instructed. "Let it flow through you. Help you, it will."  
  
Sinja-Bau smiled as she and Ben came upon the scene before them. Master Yoda was instructing a group of Jedi children, leading them through their morning exercises. All the children held miniature lightsabers, which they were using to deflect energy bolts coming from small training droids floating in front of them. The children were not much older than Ben, and all of them wore full-face helmets. Sinja-Bau recalled her own training as a youngling member of the Gryphon Clan. Master Yoda had instructed her then, as he instructed all the younglings.  
  
"Bau-Bau, look," Ben whispered, his voice barely concealing his excitement as he tugged on her hand. "They have lightsabers."  
  
Master Yoda, noting their arrival, stamped his walking stick on the floor.  
  
"Younglings, younglings. Visitors we have."  
  
The children clicked off their lightsabers and lifted the visors on their helmets, the training droids flying up to the ceiling. They were human, Rodian, Togruta, Vultan, and, Sinja-Bau was surprised to see, Gungan. Yet, in spite of the differences in skin color or texture, or the number of eyes or limbs, all had the characteristic wide-eyed look Sinja-Bau associated with children.  
  
Once he had all of the younglings' attention, Yoda thanked Glynon for bringing Ben and Sinja-Bau to him and sent her on her way. He then walked over and stood in front of them. Sinja-Bau felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach. Yoda had been on the Council when she was expelled from the Order and, after all these years, she still wasn't sure how she felt about him, but looking down into those leaf-green eyes, so ancient, so wise and so familiar, Sinja-Bau felt herself falling gracefully to her knees, her head bowed. She waited and then, her eyes filling with tears, felt a cool, gnarled hand on her head.  
  
"Welcome home, Sinja-Bau," Yoda said softly.  
  
Sinja-Bau lifted her face, the tears now flowing down her face. "Thank you, Master Yoda."  
  
"Bau-Bau," Ben cried, rushing over to her. "Why are you crying?" He reached over and stroked her wet cheeks. "Are you crying happy tears?"  
  
"Yes, dear. They're happy tears."  
  
She gently touched his face to let him know she was fine and rose to her feet. Yoda smiled up at her, then turned his attention to Ben who, assured his beloved tutor was all right, stared curiously at the Jedi Master.  
  
"You're a Jedi," he said cautiously.  
  
Yoda nodded.  
  
"But, you're so little."  
  
"Size matters not," Yoda said, and Sinja-Bau, suppressing a laugh, silently mouthed it with him.  
  
"It doesn't?" Ben asked, tilting his head.  
  
"How big is a raindrop?" Yoda asked Ben, standing face to face with the youngster.  
  
"Little."  
  
"Hmmm, but over time, many raindrops even a mountain can wear away, is that not so?"  
  
Ben nodded. Then he gave Yoda a wide smile. "My name is Ben."  
  
"Know that I do."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Your mother I know."  
  
"And my Papa? Do you know him too?"  
  
Sinja-Bau's heart skipped a beat. She was well aware Yoda knew Obi-Wan was Ben's father, so she wondered how he was going to answer the question.  
  
"Know him I do."  
  
"Do you know Obi-Wan, too?"  
  
Yoda nodded, his expression not changing a whit. "Know him I do."  
  
"Is he here?" Ben asked, his eyes shining.  
  
"Here he is."  
  
"Really? Can I see him?"  
  
Yoda chuckled, his green eyes sparkling. "See him you will, but patient you must be, young one. Now, introduce you I will to the mighty Bear Clan."  
  
Yoda turned and recited the names of all the younglings in the Bear Clan. As he did so, Ben walked over to each child and introduced himself. Soon all the children were crowding around him, and Sinja-Bau couldn't help but smile as Ben, even as he chatted happily with them, gazed with hunger at the tiny lightsabers they were holding. Yoda moved away from the children and stood next to Sinja-Bau.  
  
"Strong with the Force he is," Yoda said in a low voice.  
  
Sinja-Bau nodded. "He's an exceptional student. And his heart is as full of love and joy as he is gifted."  
  
"See that I do," Yoda responded as Ben laughed at something one of the younglings said to him, the other children joining him.  
  
"Yet, sadness I sense about him too," Yoda continued.  
  
Sinja-Bau sighed. She didn't feel comfortable discussing Onara's troubles, even with someone like Master Yoda, so she only nodded. Yoda grunted in understanding.  
  
"Is Obi-Wan really here?" she asked to change the subject. Onara had been so certain he was still away from Coruscant.  
  
"Yes. Resting and regaining his strength he has."  
  
"Was he hurt?" Sinja-Bau asked in alarm. Though she had only known Obi-Wan for a short time, she would always be indebted to the young Jedi Knight for having rescued her.  
  
Yoda nodded. "But nearly healed he is."  
  
"And his apprentice? Anakin?"  
  
"Fine he is. But, not here is he today."  
  
Sinja-Bau looked over at Ben who was in the center of the younglings who had crowded around him, his dark head barely visible over their helmeted ones. The children were all whispering now, with an occasional giggle rising from amidst them.  
  
"I wanted to thank you, Master Yoda, for sending me the Force training toys," Sinja-Bau said, looking back at the ancient Jedi.  
  
"Help you they did?"  
  
"Yes. Very much so."  
  
Yoda grunted, then surprised Sinja-Bau when he questioned her extensively on how Ben had done with each training toy. She responded in great detail, proud of what her student had accomplished, but it wasn't until later she would wonder why Master Yoda was so interested in Ben's ability.  
  
"Fine job you have done," he commented after she had finished.  
  
"Thank you, Master."  
  
"Too bad it is only one apprentice you took."  
  
Pain flared through Sinja-Bau's chest as she recalled Eo, the Quarren Jedi she had trained. Even now, after all the years that had passed, she could still see him as a young padawan, standing before her, his large turquoise eyes glittering with anxiety, his face tentacles twitching nervously as she debated whether to choose him.  
  
But chose him she had, and he had gone on to become a Master Healer. Obi- Wan had brought him to Ahjane to try and cure Onara, who was dying from midi-chlorian poisoning as a result of her being pregnant with Ben. Eo had not been able to help her, but he had told Obi-Wan of someone who could. His former master, Sinja-Bau. Sadly, while Obi-Wan was searching for her, Eo was killed on Ahjane, protecting Ben from the Red Tide assassins who had been sent by Onara's grandmother to kidnap the baby.  
  
"Miss him I do, too," Yoda said softly.  
  
Sinja-Bau looked down at Yoda, her eyes swimming with tears.  
  
"Something to show you I have," he went on. "Younglings, here remain until I return."  
  
"Yes, Master Yoda," the children chorused back, but they did not turn away from Ben around whom they were still gathered.  
  
"Ben, I'll be right back," Sinja-Bau called out to him. "Stay here with the others."  
  
"All right, Bau-Bau," Ben's voice drifted to her from amidst the children crowded around him.  
  
Just as Sinja-Bau turned to accompany Yoda, she stopped for a moment. She'd heard that particular lilt in Ben's voice before, and it was usually when he was up to something. But, as Yoda moved past her and she followed him, she shrugged it off as his just being excited he was finally at the Temple.  
  
-------------  
  
Obi-Wan the voorpak had been sleeping peacefully in the pocket of his keeper's jacket. He hadn't wanted to be taken from his cozy, warm box in his keeper's room and stuffed into the pocket, but as long as he could continue to sleep, he was content.  
  
Now, however, his keeper had pulled him out of his pocket and was holding him on the palm of his hand. The voorpak opened his eyes sleepily and looked up. He was surrounded! A number of wide-eyed faces peered down at him, whispering and giggling, and his keeper had the widest smile of all.  
  
"Oh, he's so cute," he heard one of the strange faces whisper.  
  
"We're not allowed to have pets," another offered timidly.  
  
"What is he?" still another face asked.  
  
"He's a voorpak," his keeper said in a low voice. "From Naboo. Bau-Bau gave him to me. She said I couldn't bring him with me, but I knew he wanted to see the Temple too."  
  
Why, that wasn't true at all! Obi-Wan the voorpak would have been quite content to stay in his box and sleep all day and, now that he thought about it, that's exactly what he was going to do. He'd had enough of this. Unfolding his legs, he leapt from his keeper's hand and, as fast as his eight legs could carry him, dashed past the children and across the floor.  
  
"No, Obi-Wan! Come back!" his keeper shouted, but the voorpak did not heed him.  
  
As a matter of fact, when he heard dozens of little feet coming after him, Obi-Wan the voorpak ran even faster.  
  
------------------  
  
In another part of the Jedi Temple, but not far from where Obi-Wan the voorpak was making his great escape, Obi-Wan the Jedi Knight left his rooms in the Temple. Since arriving back on Coruscant, he had spent a few days, at both Yoda and Anakin's insistence, in the Healer's Wing of the Temple, having his shoulder attended to. Which had bored him.  
  
Once he'd been allowed to finally leave the Healer's Wing, he was then ordered by Yoda to rest. Which Obi-Wan had tried to do but, after just a few days of lying about and reading, that had also bored him. Spending six months out in the field had exhausted him, there was no doubt about that, but at least it had not been boring.  
  
He had decided, therefore, in light of his boredom and his intent not to give in to his overwhelming need to see or contact Onara, to find Master Yoda and ask for an assignment, any assignment, even if it only involved something as commonplace as policing air-traffic. Anakin was gone from the Temple, taking advantage of their break to spend some time with Chewbacca.  
  
The Wookiee had kindly offered to transport Anakin and Obi-Wan to Coruscant from Jurie and, once here, had decided to hang around for a few days. That was nearly two weeks ago, for Chewbacca had found some long-lost relatives living on Coruscant. So, in addition to the time he spent with Anakin, he was also visiting them.  
  
Obi-Wan, however, knew that Anakin was spending some of his free time with Padmé and, as he continued his search for Yoda, he mulled over it. Anakin was still a Padawan and romantic involvements were expressly forbidden to him while he still was one. But, there was no doubt in Obi-Wan's mind that Anakin had strong feelings for the beautiful Naboo Senator. Feelings he'd had since the day, ten years ago, when he first met the then fourteen year- old Queen. However, as Obi-Wan turned a corner and walked down the blue- carpeted corridor, his thoughts on Anakin and Padmé were interrupted by the sound of voices echoing from just down the hall.  
  
"Come back, Obi-Wan! Come back!"  
  
Obi-Wan stopped, a frown creasing his forehead. He turned around, noting that the other Jedi walking along the hall had also stopped and were looking at him. Not only was it unusual to hear anyone shouting in the Temple, but these were the voices of children.  
  
"Obi-Wan! Stop, stop!"  
  
The voices were drawing nearer. Obi-Wan continued down the hall, then stopped next to a statue of the Venerable Jedi Master Na Quaian as a ball of fur with eight legs rushed towards him, stopping just in front of the toe of his boot.  
  
Bending down, Obi-Wan extended his hand and the creature, which he recognized as a Naboo voorpak, walked onto his palm. He stood and looked at the creature. It was breathing heavily, obviously having run very fast and very far. Its bright eyes looked up at Obi-Wan and it trilled at him, seemingly happy to have found someplace safe to rest. Then, with a huge yawn, it unfolded its legs and promptly went to sleep. Obi-Wan stared curiously at the voorpak, but then he heard the voices of the children approaching.  
  
"Where did he go? Obi-Wan! Where are you?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked down the hall. A dark-haired boy with blue-gray eyes stood in front of a group of younglings who, with helmets askew on their heads and still carrying their training lightsabers, must have been in the middle of their morning exercises. All were looking around, their voices rising and falling.  
  
Obi-Wan was just about to go over to them when he spied Master Oppo making a beeline for the children from an intersecting corridor. The Thisspiasian Jedi was in a hover chair, which he often used to move around the Temple when he wasn't in the mood to slither along the floor.  
  
"What in the name of all the Ancients is going on here?" he shouted, his face, which was entirely covered in long white hair, bristling with outrage.  
  
All the younglings, whom Obi-Wan recognized as members of the Bear Clan, immediately hushed, their eyes looking down at the floor. But the boy, who was dressed in non-Jedi clothes, stepped forward.  
  
"Hi. My name is Ben. I'm looking for Obi-Wan. Have you seen him?"  
  
Obi-Wan's heart lurched in his chest. It _was_ Ben, but he was at least a year older and a bit taller than he had been in the portrait Onara had shown him. What was he doing here, Obi-Wan wondered? And, his heart speeding up at the thought, where was Onara?  
  
"Seen him? Seen him?" Oppo cried. "No, I haven't seen him. And what are you doing out of uniform, and why were you and the others running through the halls shouting like a pack of wild animals?"  
  
Obi-Wan, who was standing to the side of the group and just behind the large statute of Master Na Quaian, had not yet been seen by either the children or Master Oppo and, since he was curious to see how Ben would act, decided to keep his presence unnoticed for the moment. The voorpak, whom Obi-Wan had deduced shared his name, continued to sleep quietly in his hand.  
  
"We're looking for Obi-Wan," Ben replied, but the boy was now walking around Master Oppo's hover chair, apparently fascinated by it. As a result, Master Oppo had to turn his chair around to keep himself in front of Ben.  
  
"That is not the way to find Master Kenobi, youngling. Shouting and running about like a pack of savage wolves," Oppo remarked irritably as he maneuvered his chair to keep track of the still circling Ben. "And be still," he snapped.  
  
Ben stopped moving and tilted his head. "Can't you walk?"  
  
"Of course I can't walk. I'm a Thisspiasian. But, that is not what we were discussing, young one. I want to know why you are not in uniform like the rest of your clan."  
  
"But, if you can't walk, how do you get around when your flying chair is broken?"  
  
Oppo sputtered at Ben's question. "What is your name?" he finally demanded.  
  
"I told you. It's Ben. Can't you hear, too?"  
  
Obi-Wan bit his lip. He knew he shouldn't smile, but the look on Oppo's face was priceless.  
  
"Why, you impudent young rascal!" Oppo finally managed to blurt out.  
  
"I am not an impotent young rascal," Ben retorted, his blue-gray eyes burning.  
  
This time Obi-Wan laughed, which caused the voorpak in his hand to open one of its eyes, regard him with an affronted look, then close it and return to its slumber.  
  
"The word is impudent, young one," Oppo said testily. "Which you most certainly are. Therefore, I'm going to see personally that you and each and every one of your clan is severely punished. Not only for shouting and running through the halls, which you know is expressly forbidden, but for your blatant disrespect and insolence."  
  
Obi-Wan moved away from the statute towards the group, but he stopped when Ben spoke.  
  
"No. Please, don't punish them, Master Snake," Ben cried out in a plaintive voice. "I'm sorry I was impotent. They were just trying to help me find Obi- Wan. I brought him into the Temple. Bau-Bau told me not to. But he ran away. I just didn't want him to get hurt. He's very little and someone might have stepped on him and squashed him. That's why we were running after him. Please, don't punish the others. It's not their fault. It's all mine."  
  
Obi-Wan felt a surge of pride as he watched his son protecting the members of the Bear Clan, some of whom, at the mention of punishment, already had tears in their eyes as they nervously clutched their lightsabers.  
  
"I have no idea what it is you're babbling about," Oppo said. "But, as you well know, youngling, any punishment for a transgression committed by one in the clan is shared by all in the clan."  
  
"But, I'm not in the----" Ben began, but he stopped when another floating chair approached them. Master Yoda was sitting in it, and a woman with silver hair and blue-green eyes walked beside him.  
  
"Ben Gavon Ke-," the silver-haired woman began, then stopped, a look of consternation on her face. "Ben," she continued, "whatever possessed you to bring that voorpak with you when I expressly forbade you to do so."  
  
Ben, at the sight of the woman Obi-Wan now saw was Sinja-Bau, lowered his head, his hands behind his back as he nervously scuffed the carpet with the toe of his shoe.  
  
"I'm sorry, Bau-Bau. But Obi-Wan wanted to see the Temple, too."  
  
Sinja-Bau crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned. "I sincerely doubt that, Ben."  
  
Oppo, who had been staring at Sinja-Bau, suddenly drew back and gasped.  
  
"Sinja-Bau!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Sinja-Bau jerked her head away from Ben and looked over at Oppo. The surprise and outrage in his voice was unmistakable. As she stared at him, her frown deepened and the color on her cheeks rose, but before she could say a word, Yoda moved his hover chair over so that he was just in front of Oppo.  
  
"At my invitation is she here, Master Oppo," he said in a firm voice.  
  
"Humph. Well, you do as you wish, Master Yoda, as you always do, but if she is in charge of this rapscallion, she needs to---"  
  
"Speak that way of a Senator's son would you, Master Oppo?"  
  
"Senator's son?"  
  
"Son of Senator Lenor this child is."  
  
Oppo glanced down at Ben and a look of realization fell over his face.  
  
"But, if he's her son, then that means he's Master Kenobi's---"  
  
"Yes, yes," Yoda said quickly, bumping his hover chair against Oppo's. "Handle this I will, Master Oppo. Important duties I know you have to attend to."  
  
Oppo glared at Yoda, then with a quick, disapproving glance at Sinja-Bau, guided his hover chair down the hall and out of sight. Obi-Wan, who had still gone unnoticed, let himself examine Sinja-Bau more closely. She was a far cry from the wild-eyed, half-starved madwoman he had found on Toola. Dressed in an elegant but simple gray gown, her silver hair pulled back in a demure bun, she looked every inch the Jedi Master and Healer she had once been.  
  
"Younglings," Yoda said to the Bear Clan who were still, Obi-Wan could see, standing in fear of their impending punishment. "Running through the Temple, against the rules that is. But, since you did so in order a life to protect, punishment you will not receive. However, each of you will meditate during the meal hour and on this you will mediate. When is it proper a rule to break. Now, dismissed you all are and to your rooms return."  
  
"Yes, Master Yoda," they all said in properly contrite voices.  
  
Ben, who was still standing under the heated glare of Sinja-Bau, surreptitiously waved goodbye to the children as they walked away. Once they were gone, Sinja-Bau rounded on Ben, who quickly lowered his head.  
  
"And as for you, young man," she said in a severe voice, "We shall be returning home this instant. Visiting the Jedi Temple is not something to be taken lightly. It is a great honor, rarely bestowed, and I am so very disappointed that you chose to treat it so cavalierly by disobeying me."  
  
Ben lifted his head, and Obi-Wan felt his heart breaking at the look of utter desolation on his son's face. It was clear he loved and respected Sinja-Bau very much and having caused her to feel any disappointment in him hurt deeply.  
  
"I'm sorry, Bau-Bau." Ben sighed and lowered his head. "You're right. I was bad," he said in a low, pained voice.  
  
Sinja-Bau shook her head, a smile fluttering around her lips. She leaned down and took Ben by the shoulders.  
  
"No, dear. You are not bad. Not at all. But what you did by disobeying me was wrong. You do understand the difference, correct?"  
  
Ben nodded. "But what about Obi-Wan? He's still missing."  
  
Obi-Wan moved towards them. "I believe I can help with that," he said, showing the voorpak to Ben.  
  
"Obi-Wan!" Ben cried.  
  
The voorpak opened its eyes at Ben's shout. It looked at him, then trilled and fluffed out its fur as Obi-Wan gently put him in Ben's outstretched hands.  
  
"Obi-Wan, you're all right, you're all right," Ben went on happily as he held the voorpak close to his cheek. Then he looked up at Obi-Wan, his blue- gray eyes shining.  
  
"Thank you, sir. I was so afraid he was going to get mashed."  
  
"He's fine," Obi-Wan said. "Though I think he'll want to rest for awhile."  
  
Ben nodded. He carefully eased the voorpak into a pocket on his jacket. Then he looked back up at Obi-Wan. A frown creased his forehead.  
  
"Do I know you?" he asked.  
  
"Perhaps. But, I believe I know who you are," Obi-Wan said warmly.  
  
"You do? Who am I?"  
  
"You're Ben Kenobi."  
  
Ben solemnly shook his head. "No, I'm not."  
  
Obi-Wan frowned. "You're not?" he said, glancing over at Sinja-Bau who had a look of unease on her face.  
  
"My name is Ben Lenor. Papa changed my name. I used to be Ben Kenobi because a Jedi Knight named Obi-Wan Kenobi helped me when I was a baby, and that's why Mama named me Ben Kenobi. But Papa's friend said it was a...a...a insult, so Papa changed my name. Mama doesn't like it, though," Ben added sadly. "She yelled at Papa about it."  
  
Obi-Wan frowned harder at this mention of trouble between Onara and her husband. Suddenly, Ben let out a great cry.  
  
"Obi-Wan! You're Obi-Wan. I remember! I saw you on the Holonet. At the party with Mama."  
  
Ben was jumping up and down with excitement, but he quickly remembered where he was when he happened to glance over at Yoda and Sinja-Bau. A suddenly serious expression fell over his little face and he bowed deeply. Obi-Wan, suppressing a smile, returned his bow.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ben Lenor," Obi-Wan said as he took Ben's hand and shook it even as, internally, he was reeling over the implications of what Ben, in his innocence, had let slip regarding Onara and Dalan.  
  
A wide smile broke across Ben's somber expression. "It's really you. Mama's told me lots of stories about you." Then his eyes fell upon Obi-Wan's lightsaber where it hung on his belt.  
  
"Your lightsaber," he said in an awed voice. He looked up at Obi-Wan. "Mama told me you used it to cut off the head of a valkon."  
  
Obi-Wan unhooked the lightsaber. "That is true. But I did it only to protect your mother."  
  
Ben nodded, but his eyes were fastened on the lightsaber. He moved his hand towards it, then stopped and looked up at Obi-Wan.  
  
"May I touch it?" he asked timidly.  
  
"You can hold it if you like, but be careful."  
  
Obi-Wan handed the lightsaber to Ben. It was a bit heavy for the boy, and he was about to take it back but Ben, his face screwed up with the effort, grunted and finally hoisted the weapon in his hands. Then he grinned up at Obi-Wan.  
  
"You're very strong," Obi-Wan observed with a smile.  
  
"I am," Ben responded proudly. "And someday I'm going to have a lightsaber of my very own."  
  
Obi-Wan let Ben hold his weapon a bit longer, but when he saw Ben straining to hold it, gently took it from him and hooked it back to his belt. Then he looked over at Sinja-Bau and Yoda, who were watching him and Ben with smiles on their faces. Placing his hand on Ben's shoulder, he guided him over to the others.  
  
"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said as he bowed.  
  
"Master Obi-Wan."  
  
Obi-Wan then turned to Sinja-Bau and held out his hand, but she, instead of taking it, moved over and gave him a warm hug, which he gladly returned.  
  
"Obi-Wan," she said smiling. "It's so good to see you again."  
  
"And you, Sinja-Bau. You look...simply beautiful."  
  
Sinja-Bau blushed. "And you're still just as charming and handsome as I remember."  
  
She reached up and, with a tender smile, gently stroked the streaks of white in his red-gold hair; the result of his having called upon the dark side of the Force when he brought Onara back from the brink of death.  
  
"I had no idea you were here," he said as she moved her hand away.  
  
"Surprise I wanted it to be for you, Master Obi-Wan," Yoda interjected. "Let you know I was going to."  
  
"And Onara?" Obi-Wan asked hopefully. "Is she here also?"  
  
A shadow moved across Sinja-Bau's face. "No, Obi-Wan. I'm afraid she's not." She glanced over at Ben, and Obi-Wan saw she did not want to discuss why Onara was not here in front of the boy. "Only Ben and I were able to come."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. He would find out later what was happening with Onara. But it was hard to have to wait. Based on what he sensed from Sinja-Bau and what Ben had said, he feared she was in some kind of pain, and it was all he could do not to run from the Temple and go to her.  
  
"Master Obi-Wan?" Yoda said, interrupting his thoughts.  
  
"Yes, Master?"  
  
"If Sinja-Bau her punishment is willing to delay, perhaps young Ben's tour of the Temple you would like to continue."  
  
A wide smile broke across Ben's face and he looked up at Obi-Wan with a beseeching expression, his blue-gray eyes hopeful.  
  
"I would be most honored to show young Master Lenor the rest of the Temple," Obi-Wan replied, his own excitement at the prospect carefully concealed.  
  
"Good," Yoda said as he maneuvered his chair around. "Sinja-Bau. Accompany me you will."  
  
"Of course, Master," she responded dutifully, but she gave Obi-Wan a merry wink. Then she flashed Ben a quick look before she walked away. "And you behave yourself, young man," she admonished as she shook a slender finger at him, but she was smiling as she said it.  
  
"I will, Bau-Bau," Ben cried. He waved goodbye to her, then turned and looked up at Obi-Wan.  
  
"What will we see first, Master Kenobi?"  
  
"What would you like to see?"  
  
Ben scrunched up his face, then smiled. "I want to see where the lightsabers are made."  
  
"Hmmm, well, we Jedi construct our own lightsabers, but I can show you where we get the materials for them. Will that be all right?"  
  
"Yes, I'd like to see that," Ben responded eagerly.  
  
Obi-Wan made to move away, but was startled when Ben took his hand. He stopped and looked down. Ben, noting the expression on his face, quickly drew his hand away.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Master Kenobi," he said, embarrassment flooding his face.  
  
"That's all right," Obi-Wan said, clearing his throat.  
  
He suddenly felt torn. In his heart he wanted nothing more than to take Ben's hand, but he also knew it would look odd for him to be walking through the Temple holding the hand of a child. Especially, he now realized with a start as he gazed into Ben's face, a child who looked so much like him.  
  
Reaching over, he patted Ben's head, his fingers gently sifting through the thick black hair Ben had inherited from his mother. Ben smiled as he did, looking up at Obi-Wan with those eyes so like his own. Obi-Wan returned his smile, then, with a soft, regretful sigh, moved his fingers away. But he did not retake his son's hand.  
  
Instead, the two walked together down the hall towards the Temple's armory and, if any of the other Jedi they encountered gave him and Ben a passing glance, Obi-Wan did not notice, for he was too busy trying, but hopelessly he now realized, to keep the pain that was swelling in his chest from crushing him.  
  
To be continued.... 


	18. Part Eighteen

Part Eighteen - Stars in the Darkness  
  
-------------  
  
Lursan frowned as he watched Dalan pacing back and forth across the thick golden carpet of his luxury penthouse. The young Dynast was clearly agitated. He and his wife had argued again last night. This time about her miscarriage. Lursan put on a sympathetic face and made appropriate sounds of empathy, but he really didn't care about Dalan and Onara's dead baby. All he cared about was getting his revenge against the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker.  
  
However, since Lursan had arrived on Coruscant he'd yet to come up with a plan as to how to get that revenge. His intuition told him Onara and her son were the key, but it wasn't until yesterday that he'd finally came up with one. Actually, Lursan grimaced, as Dalan moved away from him and over to the large windows that faced out on the cityscape, it wasn't his plan. It was Count Dooku's, but no matter. It was a good one.  
  
"I'm losing her."  
  
Lursan shifted his gaze and his attention back to Dalan. He stood facing the windows, his broad back enveloped in light. Lursan sighed. He would be glad when he was finally rid of this whining fool. Anyone with eyes could see Onara was still in love with the Jedi Knight and that she would always love him. If Dalan had any self-respect he would divorce Onara, or if he didn't want to do that, take a mistress. Onara was beautiful, but she certainly wasn't worth all this bellyaching. No woman was. No woman except for Lursan's wife.  
  
Lursan closed his eyes as a spasm of pain tore through him. Melvia had not been a beauty like that arrogant young Senator, but her heart had been patient and full of love, and she had never judged Lursan for having been the leader of the Red Tide. She had accepted him, completely and lovingly. And now she was gone, as was his only child, killed by that young Jedi, and all Lursan had now in his heart was revenge for their deaths.  
  
Opening his eyes as he pushed his pain deep down inside him, Lursan saw that Dalan had turned around and was staring curiously at him. Clearing his throat, Lursan rose from his chair and walked over to Dalan. He put a hand on his arm.  
  
"Do not fear, my friend. You will not lose her. But, you may need to find a way of, shall we say, getting rid of that which keeps her from you."  
  
Dalan frowned, his dark blue eyes puzzled. "Getting rid of? What? You mean him? The Jedi?"  
  
Lursan shrugged. "The Jedi are not immortal, for all their vaunted abilities. They can die just like anyone else."  
  
Dalan shook his head. "No, I won't murder."  
  
"I'm not talking about murder," Lursan said quickly. "But accidents can and do happen. The Jedi are often called away on hazardous missions. Master Kenobi might just find himself in such dangerous circumstances and, if so, it could possibly be arranged that he never return. Then, once he's out of the picture, Onara would stop pining for him and realize, if she's an intelligent woman, and we both agree that she is, that you are the only man for her."  
  
"I don't know," Dalan said, his dark brows drawing down over his eyes. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want Onara."  
  
"Of course you do. But don't worry. Your hands will not be sullied in anyway. You will be entirely blameless."  
  
Dalan stared at Lursan for a moment. Then he nodded quickly.  
  
"Good," Lursan said as he gave Dalan a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Leave everything to me. However, I may call upon you at some point to assist me."  
  
"Assist you? But you said---"  
  
"Don't worry. Trust me, my friend. What I will ask if you will be a minor thing, I assure you."  
  
"What do you have planned? And you're certain Onara and Ben won't be hurt?"  
  
Lursan smiled, but if Dalan had been capable of looking beyond his short- sighted obsession with his wife, he might have seen that Lursan's smile didn't reach his eyes.  
  
"I promise. Neither of them will be hurt. Now, go home and apologize to your wife. Tell her you're sorry. Buy her flowers, arrange for musicians to come and play for her, take her out to a romantic dinner for two, and then make sweet, gentle love to her. Let her know you no longer harbor any jealousy regarding her love for Master Kenobi."  
  
"But I do harbor jealousy towards him." Dalan clenched his hands. "Just the idea that I'm on the same planet with him, knowing that Onara is thinking of him, longing to be with him." Dalan shook his head. "I don't know if I can pretend to feel something I don't."  
  
Lursan sighed. Soon, he reminded himself, he would be rid of this whining Dynast, of Onara, of Skywalker and his master, of all of them. But, he had to be patient. That was what Count Dooku had advised him to be. Patient. Meeting the tall, regal Count had been the best thing that had happened to Lursan since coming to Coruscant.  
  
The Count had been entirely sympathetic to Lursan's desire for revenge against Kenobi and Skywalker. Apparently both Jedi had committed some harm against him in the past, though he declined to discuss it with Lursan. He had given Lursan the idea for the plan, offering what assistance he could, but requiring only that Lursan keep the Count's involvement a secret. Especially from Dalan. Which Lursan was more than willing to do, for the longer he knew the Dynast the less he respected him.  
  
"If you want Onara, you will find a way," Lursan said, squeezing Dalan's arm. "Swallow your pride, my friend. Tell yourself that soon Onara will be yours, completely and totally. Keep that in mind and you will be able to do what must be done. But for now, give her no reason to suspect anything is amiss."  
  
Dalan finally nodded in assent. Lursan released his arm and walked over to the penthouse's elaborate bar. He fixed a drink for himself and Dalan and, as Dooku had instructed him, secretly slipped into Dalan's drink the drug the Count had given him. Lursan had never heard of the drug, but Dooku had assured him it would make Dalan make susceptible to any demands Lursan made on him.  
  
Not that Lursan needed the drug especially, since his hold over Dalan was quite solid, but he knew that the young Dynast, for some inexplicable reason, deeply loved Ben. However, since the boy was key to Lursan's plan he had to be sure Dalan would do as Lursan wanted when it came time to implement it.  
  
He handed the drink to Dalan. Smiling, the Dynast took it and, as he always did, saluted Onara with it. Lursan joined him in the salute, touching his glass against Dalan's.  
  
"To the Senator," he said with a small smile. And to revenge, he added silently.  
  
To be continued.... 


	19. Part Nineteen

Hi All! Thanks again for your wonderful comments. I'm sorry that these posts aren't as long as the ones I used to do, but Darth Real Life is taking up much of my time now as I search for a new job. I'll keep posting as much as I can, though. Thanks for reading! :)  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Nineteen  
  
--------------  
  
"Master Kenobi! Look!"  
  
Obi-Wan glanced over to where Ben was standing on his head, his cherubic face split in a wide grin.  
  
"Very good, Ben."  
  
Ben nodded, still grinning, which looked rather funny to Obi-Wan since his face was upside down. The two of them were in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, sitting on a soft swell of grass. Hours had passed since they'd started their tour of the Temple and Obi-Wan, wanting very much to please his son, had taken Ben to just about every place he could imagine that would interest a young boy. But Ben's favorite place, next to the armory, was now this room. As it had been Obi-Wan's when he was a boy.  
  
Ben pulled his legs over his head and rolled to a sitting position, laughing as he did so, his blue-gray eyes shining. Obi-Wan joined him, suddenly aware that he had laughed more in the past few hours than he had in months. But it was impossible not to laugh around Ben, for not only was he a happy, inquisitive child, but his laughter was infectious and it reminded Obi-Wan, with a sharp pang to his heart, of Onara's laugh.  
  
"Are you hungry, Ben?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
Obi-Wan had asked Ben this same question some time ago and had gotten the same answer, but he found it hard to believe Ben wasn't hungry. It was now late in the afternoon and they'd been touring the Temple since early that morning.  
  
"Are you sure you're not hungry?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Obi-Wan mulled over this, wondering if he should take Ben at his word or insist that he eat something. Anakin had been nine when Obi-Wan took him as his apprentice, so he had some experience with children, but Anakin had always been very self-sufficient. Obi-Wan had not had to insist he eat three meals a day, or clean his teeth before going to bed, or wash the back of his neck. It was a result, Obi-Wan knew, of Anakin having been raised by his mother. Looking at Ben, Obi-Wan had no doubt Onara was just as loving, but firm, with their son.  
  
"What about Obi-Wan? Do you think, perhaps, that he might be hungry?"  
  
Ben looked over to where his pet was rolling happily over the thick, green grass. The voorpak had taken to the Room of a Thousand Fountains like a fish to water. It probably reminded him of his native Naboo. Ben stared at the voorpak, frowning as he chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip.  
  
"He might be hungry, Master Kenobi. He is very greedy."  
  
"What does he like to eat?"  
  
Ben looked over at Obi-Wan, his face suddenly taking on a devilish expression.  
  
"He's a carnival," he said in a low, scary voice. "Do you know what that is?"  
  
It took all of Obi-Wan's training to keep his face perfectly straight. "I believe so. It means he likes to eat meat, right?"  
  
Ben nodded eagerly. "And that means he's fierce. All carnivals are fierce." He looked approvingly over at Obi-Wan the voorpak who was now, once again, taking a nap and looking anything but fierce to Obi-Wan.  
  
"I see. And what kind of meat does he like to eat?"  
  
"Rats and bugs and lizards. Stuff like that. Mama hates when he eats. She says it's disgusting."  
  
Ben screwed up his face in what Obi-Wan assumed was an imitation of one of Onara's disgusted expressions. Then he giggled, his eyes sparkling. "Mama doesn't eat meat. Did you know that, Master Kenobi?"  
  
Obi-Wan frowned slightly. "No, I didn't know that." Then he suddenly realized there was a lot about Onara he didn't know and yet, at the same time, he felt as if he'd known her all his life. Truth be told, the two of them had spent less than a month together in the four years since he'd first met her.  
  
"Bau-Bau doesn't eat meat either, but Papa does."  
  
"Do you eat meat?"  
  
"Mama doesn't let me, but I like to watch Obi-Wan eat his meat. I don't think it's disgusting at all. I think it's great."  
  
As Obi-Wan wondered where in the Temple he would find bugs or rats or lizards to feed to the voorpak, Ben walked over and sat next to him.  
  
"Master Kenobi?"  
  
"Yes, Ben?"  
  
"Did you really do all those things Mama told me about in her stories?"  
  
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. He wasn't sure how to answer. He didn't want Ben to think Onara had been telling him lies when she'd told him those stories.  
  
"Well, I did cut off the head of that valkon but no, I'm afraid I didn't do most of those things."  
  
Ben nodded. "I didn't think so. I kind of thought Mama was making it up. When I was little I believed her, but...but...well...I'm a big boy now."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at the idea that Ben no longer looked at himself as little, although he wasn't even four yet. Then, as Obi-Wan thought about the implications of Ben's question, his smile slipped away.  
  
"Are you disappointed?" And he was surprised at how fearful he was of Ben's answer.  
  
Ben cocked his head and pulled at a blade of grass. "No, not really. You want to know why? Because I like you, Master Kenobi. And I like you better this way."  
  
"And what way is that?" Obi-Wan asked warmly.  
  
"Real." Then Ben looked up at him, his eyes serious. "Do you like me?"  
  
"Oh, yes, Ben, I do. Very much so."  
  
Ben smiled widely. "I hoped we could be friends. Did you like my picture? Mama gave it to you, didn't she?"  
  
"It's in my quarters. Would you like to see it?"  
  
"Oh, yes."  
  
"All right. After we eat I'll take you there."  
  
"And we'll get Obi-Wan something to eat too?" Ben asked as Obi-Wan stood and, reaching down, helped him up.  
  
"Yes. I'm sure we'll find something for him to eat."  
  
"It can't be dead, Master Kenobi," Ben said as he picked up the napping voorpak. "It has to be alive. He won't eat anything that's dead. I think that's why Mama says it's so disgusting when he eats."  
  
Ben carefully eased the voorpak into the pocket of his jacket. Then he went over to Obi-Wan and the two left the Room of a Thousand Fountains and made their way to the Temple kitchens.  
  
To be continued.... 


	20. Part Twenty

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty  
  
--------------  
  
Anakin Skywalker, his long legs carrying him quickly through the corridors of the Temple, was on his way to Obi-Wan's quarters. But his thoughts were not on his master. They were, as they had been for the last few days, on Padmé. The day before yesterday Anakin had spent some time with her. Not much, just an hour or so because, as usual, she'd been very busy.  
  
They'd met at a cafetorium, during the rush hour, of course, when it had been filled with workers trying to grab a quick bite before returning for their afternoon shifts. Anakin suspected Padmé had picked the cafetorium at just that time for just that reason. With all the hustle and bustle of the customers and the serving droids, it was probably the most unromantic spot imaginable.  
  
Ever since returning to Coruscant, Anakin had sent Padmé repeated messages asking to meet with her. She'd finally said yes, but after they had ordered their food and pushed their way through the crowd to a tiny table near the kitchen Anakin had discovered why Padmé had finally agreed to meet with him.  
  
She had been so incredibly subtle with her questions Anakin now recalled with a deep frown as he turned a corner, his dark robe sweeping behind him, his boots ringing on the polished floors of the Temple. She'd batted those long dark lashes and looked up at him with those alluring dark eyes and then, after inquiring politely about him and Master Obi-Wan, had shifted the conversation to Onara.  
  
At first, Anakin had been so thrilled at finally being in her company, even if it was in a crowded, noisy cafetorium, surrounded by hundreds of chattering people, the smell of burnt pilla-bread thick and cloying in the air, he had happily answered her questions regarding Onara and his and Obi- Wan's mission to Ahjane four years ago.  
  
However, he had not been so distracted by her beauty and charm that he hadn't noted, finally, where Padmé had been leading the conversation. And that was when he had put down the glass of jawa juice he'd been drinking and glared at her, telling her he had no idea what she was talking about. Dalan was Ben's father and that was that.  
  
A corner of Anakin's mouth turned up as he deftly dodged a courier droid skittering across the floor. He could still see the look of utter surprise on Padmé's face. She had thought he was so smitten with her that she could easily weasel any information out of him. And, Anakin now admitted soberly to himself, the truth was she almost had for he was quite smitten with her.  
  
But even Padmé, as much as Anakin adored and worshiped her, would not get him to betray Obi-Wan's trust. If Padmé suspected his master was Ben's father, she'd just have to go on suspecting it, for he would never confirm it. If she happened to learn the truth from someone else there was nothing Anakin could do about that. But she definitely wouldn't learn it from him.  
  
He turned another corner which led to the area of the Temple where the living quarters were located. Arriving at Obi-Wan's door he was about to activate the sensor-bell when he heard the sound of laughter from behind the door. Leaning closer, Anakin discerned it was two people laughing, a man and what sounded like a child, though Anakin couldn't tell of it was a boy or girl. But the heavier, older laughter was definitely Obi-Wan's. Then Anakin heard Obi-Wan's voice.  
  
"That's very good, Ben. But you must learn to control the angle of descent."  
  
"Like this, Master Kenobi?"  
  
"Yes, like that. Well done, Ben. Well done."  
  
As Anakin stared at the closed door, he felt a twinge of jealously whipping through him, like a maggot wriggling into his heart. In all the years he'd been Master Obi-Wan's apprentice, he had never heard the Jedi speak to him with such warmth and affection in his voice.  
  
But why should he have, Anakin suddenly thought, shamed to feel tears stinging his eyes. Ben was Obi-Wan's son. Anakin was not, because Anakin had no father and never would have. He was about to turn away, but an image of Ben, the one-month old baby whom Anakin had rescued from Lady Tsara and her Red Tide assassins sprang to his mind. He activated the sensor.  
  
"Come in," Obi-Wan called, the door opening.  
  
Anakin walked in and for a moment was totally flabbergasted. Obi-Wan, who was probably the neatest person Anakin had ever known, his quarters always so orderly and tidy, was sitting on the floor with Ben. The two were surrounded by books, cups, datapads and a dozen other things. One of those things, a tray upon which sat what looked like a ball of fur, was floating between the two.  
  
Ben, who Anakin recognized from the portrait Onara had shown him some months ago, was staring at the tray, but when Anakin walked in, he was distracted and the tray wobbled, the creature on it about to fall onto the floor. Obi-Wan, who had been smiling at Anakin in greeting, turned his head and, raising his hand, guided the tray to the floor. The furry creature ruffled its fur, walked off the tray and over to Ben, crawling into his lap. Ben laughed and began stroking the thing.  
  
"Sorry, Obi-Wan," he said. "I almost dropped you."  
  
Anakin raised an eyebrow as he walked further into the room. Obi-Wan? That thing was named Obi-Wan? He looked over at his master and bowed slightly to him.  
  
"Master," he said, but his voice was low and neutral.  
  
Once again Anakin felt jealousy worming into his heart. Now that Ben was older, the resemblance between him and Obi-Wan was almost uncanny. Except for the blackness of Ben's hair, as opposed to Obi-Wan's red-gold hair, he looked exactly as Anakin imagined a young Obi-Wan would have looked like.  
  
Obi-Wan, noting the tone of Anakin's voice and the expression on his face, frowned slightly at him, his eyes moving back and forth between his apprentice and his son. Ben, however, was staring hard at Anakin, a deep frown creasing his small forehead. Then a light broke through in his blue- gray eyes, and laughing happily, he pointed at Anakin.  
  
"The womp rat and the desert mouse Agreed to have a race To see who was the fastest In that hot god-awful place.  
  
The Jawas and the Tuskens They all laid down their bets To see which of the rodents Would prove to be the best."  
  
As Ben continued singing the rest of the song Anakin had sang to him after he had rescued him from Lady Tsara and the two had taken refuge in a speeder while they waited for help, both shock and pleasure rippled through him. Shock because Ben had only been a month old when Anakin sang that song to him and pleasure that he had, somehow, remembered it.  
  
And, despite himself, Anakin found himself singing along with Ben, both their voices rising together for the last, resounding chorus. Ben clapped his hands when they finished. Obi-Wan, however, was staring at his son, apparently just as surprised as Anakin that Ben remembered the song. Anakin took off his robe and laid it on a chair, then moved over and sat next to Ben, smiling widely at him.  
  
"Hey, you," he said softly. "I'm Anakin."  
  
"Hi. My name is Ben."  
  
"I know. But where did you learn that song?"  
  
"You sang it to me. After you took me away from that scary lady."  
  
"You remember her?"  
  
Ben nodded. "I asked Mama about her once. She said she was a very bad lady, but that she was dead and could never take me away from her again and that I shouldn't be afraid of her. And I'm not."  
  
"That's good that you're not afraid. Because your mother is right. She'll never take you away again."  
  
Anakin glanced over at Obi-Wan. He was still staring at Ben, but he had every right to be mystified. There was no way Ben should have had any memory of what happened that night when Lady Tsara kidnapped him, but apparently he did.  
  
"You're Master Kenobi's apprentice, aren't you?" Ben asked.  
  
Anakin nodded.  
  
"Mama told me about you. She said that you were very brave and that you saved me and protected her."  
  
Anakin shrugged, but he was grinning. "Just all in a day's work."  
  
Ben peered around and looked at Anakin's lightsaber. Noting where Ben was looking, Anakin unhooked it from his belt and showed it to him.  
  
"It's not the same," Ben said.  
  
"What do you mean?" Anakin asked.  
  
"It's not the same as Master Kenobi's."  
  
Anakin cleared his throat, glancing uncomfortably over at Obi-Wan. Usually, as a sign of respect, Padawans built their lightsabers to resemble those of their Masters. Obi-Wan's lightsaber, for example, resembled that of his former Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. But Anakin had constructed his lightsaber while in a trance and when he came out of it, discovered he had built a lightsaber whose design was like no other and emphasized maximum power and strength.  
  
"No, it's not," he admitted.  
  
Anakin handed it to Ben, but it was too heavy for him to hold, so Anakin took it back. Ben smiled up at him.  
  
"Someday I'm going to have a lightsaber of my very own."  
  
Anakin smiled as he hooked his lightsaber back on his belt. "Well, you have to train very hard to earn the right to construct your own lightsaber."  
  
"I can do it. Bau-Bau says I'm a good learner."  
  
Anakin frowned. "Bau-Bau?"  
  
"Sinja-Bau," Obi-Wan explained quickly. "That's what Ben calls her."  
  
Anakin nodded, now recalling the ex-Jedi whom Obi-Wan had rescued from Toola. He'd forgotten she had elected to stay on in Onara's household.  
  
"Is that who you came to the Temple with?"  
  
"Yes. She's with Master Yoda."  
  
"And where is your mother? Did she come too?"  
  
Ben's eyes, which had been shining, suddenly darkened. He glanced over at Obi-Wan, then lowered his head, his fingers tangling nervously through the fur of his pet.  
  
"No," he said in a low, soft voice. "She couldn't come. She didn't feel good. She and Papa...she and Papa were yelling at each other last night. I heard them."  
  
Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan and saw distress in his master's face as he gazed at his son. Reaching over, Obi-Wan put his hand underneath Ben's chin and lifted his face up.  
  
"Don't be sad," he said gently. "Sometimes mothers and fathers yell at each other. But it doesn't mean they don't love each other."  
  
"I know," Ben replied. "But...but.." He looked down again.  
  
"But what?" Obi-Wan said.  
  
Ben raised his head and looked over at Obi-Wan, his eyes full. "But Papa said Mama killed my baby sister," he whispered.  
  
If Ben had suddenly stood up and knocked Anakin over with a brick, he couldn't have been more shocked.  
  
"I'm sure you misheard him, Ben," Obi-Wan said quickly.  
  
Ben shook his head. "No, Master Kenobi. They thought I was sleeping, but I wasn't. I couldn't sleep. I was too excited about coming to the Temple. And I heard Papa say that Mama killed my baby sister. Mama was preg...pregnant. And my baby sister was in her belly. But she died. And Papa yelled at Mama and said she killed her. Because Mama doesn't love him."  
  
Anakin's eyes were now so wide they were starting to dry out and he and Obi- Wan exchanged worried glances. Then the comlink on Obi-Wan's belt beeped. He unhooked it.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Sinja-Bau the Temple is ready to leave," Yoda's gravely voice said from the comlink's speaker. "Bring young Master Lenor to the Temple entrance."  
  
"Right away, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan hooked the comlink back on his belt. Then he leaned over and put his hands on Ben's shoulders, squeezing them gently.  
  
"Don't let it trouble you, Ben. I know it's difficult to understand, but sometimes the problems of grownups are much more complicated than they may appear. Whatever your father..." and Anakin clearly heard the catch in Obi- Wan's voice, "...said to your mother I know he didn't mean it."  
  
Ben tilted his head and gazed solemnly up at Obi-Wan. "Mama cried when Papa said she killed my baby sister. I heard her. I don't like it when Mama cries."  
  
Obi-Wan reached over and pulled Ben into his lap and Ben, without hesitation, put his arms around Obi-Wan's neck, but Obi-Wan's eyes were on Anakin and, rising from the floor, he nodded, understanding that his master wanted to be alone with Ben before taking him back to Sinja-Bau.  
  
"Bye, Ben," Anakin said.  
  
Ben, who had nestled his head in Obi-Wan's neck, turned and looked up at him. Anakin wasn't surprised to see tears on his round cheeks.  
  
"Bye-bye, Anakin," he said in a sad voice. "Will I see you again?"  
  
"You bet you will," Anakin said, giving him a wide smile.  
  
Ben returned his smile, wiping his face with his hand. "Obi-Wan says bye too."  
  
For a moment Anakin thought Ben was referring to his master, then he remembered Ben's pet, the furball that was now sitting on the floor, his bright eyes peering up at Anakin.  
  
"Bye, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, waving at the creature.  
  
He turned and left the quarters, the door sliding shut behind him. Then he released a breath as he stood in the hallway, wondering what his master was going to do in light of what Ben had just told him about Onara. The Council had sent Obi-Wan away six months ago in order to get his mind off her, but Anakin had a feeling that with this visit from Ben and now this news about problems in her marriage, his master was going to have his mind on Onara even more. And that, Anakin knew as he walked down the hall, was the last thing the Council wanted.  
  
To be continued.... 


	21. Part TwentyOne

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-One  
  
------------------  
  
"Thank you again, Master Yoda, for showing me the statue of Eo. He was so terribly modest that I think it would have embarrassed him greatly to have been commemorated in the Hall of Remembrance, but I am so pleased that the Order sought to honor him so."  
  
Yoda turned his head and looked up at Sinja-Bau who was standing next to him in the great vestibule of the Temple as they waited for Obi-Wan to bring Ben to them. Her blue-green eyes were filled with both gratitude and pain as she gazed back at him.  
  
"Welcome you are, Sinja-Bau, and welcome you will always be at the Temple. Forget that, I hope you do not."  
  
"I won't, Master Yoda. Until today I had thought never to return, but now..."  
  
Sinja-Bau stopped and looked around her and Yoda could see in her eyes and sense in her heart the firestorm of her memories of her long years here.  
  
"Decision you need not make now. Ben is still very young and need you he still does."  
  
Sinja-Bau smiled widely at the mention of her charge. "Yes, he does. But he's growing up so fast."  
  
"As all children do," Yoda remarked.  
  
He turned as he noted Obi-Wan coming down the corridor towards them. Ben was walking next to the Jedi, but Yoda was surprised to see that Obi-Wan was firmly holding the child's hand. The two stopped. Obi-Wan bowed and, a moment behind him, so did Ben, but neither released the other's hand.  
  
"Are you ready to go home, Ben?" Sinja-Bau asked.  
  
Ben turned his head and looked up at Obi-Wan and Yoda saw the hesitation in his face.  
  
"I guess so, Bau-Bau," He turned and looked back at her. "But, couldn't I stay just a little longer?"  
  
Sinja-Bau gently shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Ben. I'm sure Obi-Wan has a lot to do and we've been gone all day. Don't you want to see your mother?"  
  
Ben nodded, but his face was still sad. Obi-Wan, noting it, knelt down and took Ben by the shoulders.  
  
"Don't worry, Ben. We'll see each other again."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"I promise. Jedi word of honor. And don't forget what I told you."  
  
Ben smiled. "I won't, Master Kenobi. I promise. Jedi word of honor."  
  
"That's a good boy," Obi-Wan said returning his smile.  
  
He stood and, guiding Ben by the shoulders, took him over to Sinja-Bau.  
  
"Thank you for bringing him to see me," Obi-Wan said to her, and Yoda heard the deep and throbbing tiers of emotions in the young Jedi's voice.  
  
"It was my pleasure, Obi-Wan. And it was so good to see you again. I do hope it won't be the last time. Ready, Ben?"  
  
"Yes, Bau-Bau. Goodbye, Master Yoda."  
  
"Goodbye young one. A pleasure to meet you it has been."  
  
"You too, sir." Then Ben turned his large, blue-gray eyes towards Obi-Wan. "Goodbye, Master Kenobi."  
  
"Goodbye, Ben," Obi-Wan said softly. "And goodbye to Obi-Wan," he added, referring to Ben's pet voorpak who was apparently in the boy's jacket pocket for Yoda noted the bulge there.  
  
Sinja-Bau took Ben's hand and, once the large doors to the Temple had slowly swung open, walked through them and back onto into the bright tumult that was the planet-wide city of Coruscant. Neither Obi-Wan or Yoda moved until the doors had closed shut again and even then both continued to stand quietly in the shadowed tranquility that was the Jedi Temple.  
  
"Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan finally said, breaking the silence between them.  
  
"Yes, Obi-Wan?" Yoda responded, peering up at him.  
  
Obi-Wan folded his arms within the sleeves of his robe, but his eyes were fastened on the doors of the Temple through which had walked Sinja-Bau and his son.  
  
"Until this moment I had known only two truly happy days in my life. One was the day Qui-Gon chose me as his Padawan. The second was the night I spent with Onara. Today, however, I have experienced the third happiest day of my life."  
  
Yoda nodded but said nothing as he leaned on his walking stick. He had deliberately thrown Ben and Obi-Wan together to see what would come of it, but he had also never doubted the outcome. Ben was a handsome, bright and gifted child, a son any man would be proud to call his own. As for Obi-Wan, he was not only noble and brave, but gentle and thoughtful. A father any son would be proud of. And, although Ben did not know Obi-Wan was his real father, it was apparent the two now shared a connection that was more than just blood.  
  
"If you will excuse me, Master," Obi-Wan suddenly said, bowing quickly to Yoda, his voice tight with what sounded to Yoda like unshed tears.  
  
Yoda inclined his head, but remained silent and still as he watched Obi-Wan stride away, his dark brown robe billowing out behind him. Once the young Jedi Knight had disappeared from his sight, Yoda finally moved, his walking stick ticking on the polished floor as he made his way slowly down the hall.  
  
_Set in motion all this I have_, he thought gravely. _Now only wait I can to see what unfolds._  
  
-------------  
  
Onara put down the datapad she'd been reading and wearily rubbed the bridge of her nose. She'd been reading over the latest reports from Bail Organa regarding the Ethics Committee's last hearing, but once she discovered she'd read the same line over and over, she knew it was time to take a break. She'd been working all day, ever since Ben and Sinja-Bau had left early that morning to go to the Jedi Temple. Keria had been gone all day also, spending time with Padmé's handmaidens whom she had grown quite close to. As for Dalan, Onara had not seen nor heard from him since he'd left that morning. It was now late afternoon.  
  
Rising from her desk, she walked into the common area of the apartment and through that towards the kitchen. She was about to make herself a pot of tea when she heard the front door whish open. Turning, she hurried back into the common area and watched as Ben and Sinja-Bau entered the room.  
  
"Mama!"  
  
A blur of motion and Ben was in her arms.  
  
"Ben, darling," Onara cried as she lifted him up and held him.  
  
"Did you miss me, Mama?"  
  
"Of course I did, but I'm very happy you got a chance to go to the Temple. Did you have a good time?"  
  
"Yes, Mama, I did. And I met Master Yoda and Master Anakin and there were lots of children there and they all had lightsabers!"  
  
"Did they really?"  
  
Ben nodded eagerly. "And I saw him, Mama!"  
  
Onara's heart skipped a beat. "Who, darling?" but she knew who it was. She could see it in Ben's eyes.  
  
"Obi-Wan! And he showed me where all the Jedi get the parts for their lightsabers, and he took me to a room with lots of pretty fountains in it, and you would like that room too, Mama, you should go there one day, and then Obi-Wan showed me where he had hung my picture on his wall, and then we had lunch and Obi-Wan ate a mouse, but I had a salad and some jawa juice and so did Obi-Wan, I mean the real Obi-Wan, and then he showed me how to use the Force, and Anakin came to see me, and we sang a song together, and then Obi-Wan made me promise to tell you..."  
  
Ben stopped, his eyes widening as he looked over at Sinja-Bau who was watching him with a wide smile.  
  
"He...uh...he told me to tell you something, Mama, but only when it was just you and me," Ben finished, looking uncomfortably over at Sinja-Bau who quickly raised her hands, laughing as she did so.  
  
"Don't mind me," she said as she walked past them to her room in the apartment. "It's time for my meditation anyway."  
  
"Did you have a good time, Sinja-Bau?" Onara asked as the older woman swept past.  
  
Sinja-Bau stopped and looked back, her eyes shining. "Yes, dear. I did. A very nice time. Thank you for asking."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that," Onara said, and she was for she had noted the trepidation in Sinja-Bau's face that morning when Onara asked her to take Ben to the Temple. She had worried all day that she'd placed the woman, who was now her dearest companion, in an uncomfortable situation.  
  
Once Sinja-Bau was gone, Onara carried Ben over to the couch. She sat down and he nestled close to her. Then she felt something moving against her side. She watched, smiling, as Obi-Wan the voorpak crawled out of the pocket of Ben's jacket.  
  
"Oh, Ben, don't tell me you took Obi-Wan with you to the Temple?"  
  
"I did, Mama. I'm sorry. I know I wasn't supposed to."  
  
"Well, as long as he didn't cause any kind of pandemonium. I doubt very much that the Jedi would have appreciated having a voorpak running loose about their halls."  
  
Ben didn't say anything, but Onara noted his face scrunching up the way it did when she would ask him if he'd done something she knew he'd done, but he was reluctant to admit he'd done. The voorpak moved over Ben's lap, across the couch, onto its arm and over to a table next to the couch. It then collapsed its eight legs and blissfully closed its eyes.  
  
"Now, what did you want to tell me?" she asked.  
  
Ben slipped his arms around her waist and dug the side of his face into her side.  
  
"Is Papa here?"  
  
"No, darling. He's not."  
  
"Will he be back?"  
  
Onara hesitated for a moment. Then she sighed. "Yes, he'll be back. But later. However, if he's not back by dinner, we'll eat without him."  
  
Ben nodded, but Onara sensed there was something on his mind. She was about to ask him what it was, but she heard him talking.  
  
"I love you, Mama."  
  
"And I love you, my darling one."  
  
Ben remained silent for a moment and, although Onara was dying to know what it was Obi-Wan had told him to tell her, she made herself wait. Then she felt Ben stirring against her.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I...I heard you and Papa yelling at each other last night."  
  
Onara drew in a sharp breath, her heart kicking against her ribs, but willed herself to remain calm.  
  
"And I told Obi-Wan about it," Ben went on. "Are you mad?"  
  
"Of course not. I'm glad you had someone you could talk to about it. It must have been very frightening for you to...to hear Mama and Papa talking to each other in that way."  
  
Ben nodded. "I don't like to hear you cry, Mama. Promise me you won't cry anymore."  
  
Onara reached over and gently took Ben's chin as she looked deeply into his eyes.  
  
"I wish I could promise you that, darling. I wish no one in this universe ever had to cry again, but remember, sometimes we cry happy tears. However, I promise I will do my best not to cry any more sad tears."  
  
At least, she firmly told herself, not where her son could hear her.  
  
"I cried, Mama. When I was with Obi-Wan. Because I was sad about you and Papa. And Obi-Wan told me not to cry, and he said he would always be my friend, and if I ever needed him, if I was ever sad or afraid, he would come. Just like that." Ben snapped his fingers, or tried to, giggling as he did so.  
  
"Obi-Wan did it better, Mama. But he said he would come. And then he asked me to tell you something. And he made me promise to remember it, and to tell you when it was only you and me."  
  
Onara stroked Ben's cheek, her heart warming with both gratefulness and longing, so glad to know Obi-Wan had been there for Ben when he needed someone to share his feelings with.  
  
"And what did he tell you, darling?"  
  
"To remember what he said after you told him the story about the royal twins."  
  
Onara felt her throat tighten, a wave of remembrance washing over her as she recalled the night of the blessing ceremony. The night she and Obi-Wan conceived the child who now sat next to her, looking up at her with his father's beautiful eyes.  
  
"Did you tell Obi-Wan stories too, Mama?"  
  
Onara smiled softly. "Yes, once."  
  
"But you never told me that story."  
  
"I know, dear. But I will. One day."  
  
"But, Mama, what did Obi-Wan say to you after you told him the story?"  
  
Onara drew in, then slowly released a deep breath. She pulled Ben closer, laying her cheek against the softness of his thick, black hair.  
  
"He told me to never give up hope. That as long as there is life, there is hope."  
  
"Oh." Ben was silent for a moment. "Mama, are you and Obi-Wan friends?"  
  
"Yes, dear, we are."  
  
"I'm glad, Mama. I like him. I like him a lot, and I like him even better then he was in the stories you told me. Obi-Wan said you made up most of those stories about him. But, that's okay, Mama. I still like those stories. I hope I see him again."  
  
Onara held Ben closer, keeping her cheek pressed against his hair as she hugged him and blinked away the tears that were filling her eyes.  
  
_I hope you do too, my darling. As do I._  
  
-----------------  
  
Anakin ducked as the lightsaber swung towards his head. Then, turning fluidly, he quickly parried the next blow. The blades of the two lightsabers, one blue, the other green, crackled and sizzled as they made contact, the sound reverberating in the echoing quiet of the Temple gymnasium. It was early in the morning, a few days after Ben's visit to the Temple. Anakin and Obi-Wan were sparring but Obi-Wan's thoughts were, as they'd been the last few days, elsewhere. And this was most evident when, as a result of his not paying attention, Anakin nearly knocked his lightsaber from his hand.  
  
"Master," Anakin cried as he circled Obi-Wan, his blade high above his head. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were either setting me up for a proper thrashing, or your mind is not on the match. I almost got you there."  
  
"You know better than you imagine, Padawan," Obi-Wan replied with a rueful smile.  
  
He advanced towards Anakin and the two exchanged a dizzying set of blazing thrusts, cuts and parries. If anyone else had been present in the gym, they would have been dazzled by the skill of both the master and the apprentice, but the two were alone.  
  
The sound of their lightsabers, their grunts and heavy breathing, and the skids and slides of their boots across the polished floor were the only sounds in the cavernous room. That is until a sound Obi-Wan was quite dismayed to hear broke through. It was the sound of his lightsaber clattering to the floor. Staring down at his weaponless hand, then at his lightsaber where it lay on the floor, its blade having shut off, Obi-Wan felt a moment of shock.  
  
"Master...I...I'm sorry," Anakin quickly stammered. Shutting off his own lightsaber, he bent to pick up Obi-Wan's, handing it to him.  
  
"Why are you apologizing?" Obi-Wan asked as he took his weapon. "You did nothing wrong."  
  
"But...but I've never disarmed you before, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at the awe and, he now noted, hint of pride in Anakin's voice and in his eyes.  
  
"There's a first time for everything," he said with a smile.  
  
Anakin shook his head, frowning. "It wasn't a fair fight. Your mind was not on the match."  
  
Obi-Wan shrugged. "It was a fair fight. If my mind was not on the match, that was my mistake. A valuable lesson for us both, I think. But, let's stop. I've had enough for today."  
  
"So have I. And I'm meeting with the Chancellor later this morning."  
  
"Ah," Obi-Wan replied, but said no more.  
  
He did not care for Chancellor Palpatine, and his discomfort with the man had only grown over the years, but Anakin had a great deal of respect for him. Obi-Wan had tried to open his apprentice's eyes regarding what he saw as Palpatine's crafty and manipulative opportunism, but his words of misgiving regarding the Chancellor continued to fall on Anakin's decidedly deaf ears.  
  
"What will you do today, Master?" Anakin went on as the two made their way towards the gym's entrance.  
  
"I'm not sure. To be honest, I'm quite surprised we haven't been given any assignments, especially since the healers finally gave me a clean bill of health."  
  
"You should go see her, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped, forcing Anakin to stop and look back at him.  
  
"See whom?" Obi-Wan asked, frowning.  
  
"Onara. That's why you weren't able to concentrate on our sparring. You were thinking about her. I could see it in your eyes. You were thinking about what Ben told you about her and Dalan."  
  
Obi-Wan released a heavy breath. Anakin was right. Ever since Ben's visit, not only could he not stop thinking about his son, he couldn't stop thinking about Onara and what, apparently, was happening in her marriage. And he also couldn't help thinking it was all his fault. He loved Onara and suspected she still loved him, as deeply and passionately as he loved her, and if that love was making her marriage an unhappy one, then Obi-Wan couldn't help but blame himself.  
  
"It's true," he admitted in a low voice. "I have been thinking about her. About her and Ben."  
  
"I know you have, Master. And you shouldn't feel guilty about it. And don't try to deny you haven't been feeling guilty," Anakin said quickly in response to the look Obi-Wan's face. "I know you too well, Master. Ben is a great kid. Smart as a whip and full of so much light and joy that you'd be crazy not to love him. And Onara..." Anakin smiled warmly. "She's not only beautiful, but a strong and compassionate woman. You shouldn't beat yourself up for loving them both."  
  
Anakin walked over and put his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Go and see her, Master," he said gently. "You're not going to feel right until you do."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I can't interfere in her life, Anakin. She belongs to someone else."  
  
"She doesn't belong to anyone. She's her own person and always will be. Granted, she is married to another man, but that doesn't mean she can't need or have a friend. Maybe you can't be with her the way you want to, but you can still be her friend. Can't you, Master?"  
  
Obi-Wan stared at Anakin for a moment, both surprised and, he now realized, strangely saddened with the realization that the tow-headed, nine year-old he'd taken under his wing all those years ago was no longer a boy, but a young man.  
  
"You are a wise man," Obi-Wan said warmly, reaching over and squeezing Anakin's arm.  
  
"I don't know about that," he replied, his bright blue eyes twinkling. "Master Yoda always says," and Anakin pitched his voice to match that of the raspy, throaty voice of the ancient Jedi, "Much to learn have you, young one."  
  
Obi-Wan laughed as he made his way with Anakin to the entrance leading out into the Temple corridors.  
  
"You mustn't take it personally, Anakin. Yoda says that to everyone. I've even heard that he's says it on occasion to Master Dulmak."  
  
"Master Dulmak? But she's at least 500 years old."  
  
"That is true. But, remember, Yoda is 800 years old. To him, everyone is a 'young one'."  
  
Anakin laughed, then he stopped laughing and stared hard at Obi-Wan. "All right, Master. You did a pretty good job of changing the subject, but I still think you should go see---"  
  
"Don't worry, Anakin. I will go and see her," he said as the two walked through the door and out into the hallway which was beginning to fill with Jedi going about their daily business and errands.  
  
"Good," was all Anakin said, but Obi-Wan barely heard him for he was only aware of how wildly his heart was beating and how quickly the blood was surging through his veins at the thought of seeing Onara again.  
  
Turning a corner and heading towards his quarters, he wondered if, in light of the way he was feeling, it would not be a good idea to see her after all, but Anakin was right. Nothing need happen between them. He still loved her, still longed for her in the secret and solitary alcoves of his heart, but he was certain he could put aside such desires and be what he sensed she most needed. A friend.  
  
--------------  
  
Onara shook her head as one of her platoon of assistants handed her still another pile of datadisks.  
  
"No, not any more. I can't look at another datadisk."  
  
"But, Madame, you must. Viceroy Organa sent these over for you to read. The Ethics Committee will be holding hearings later this week."  
  
"I'm aware of that," Onara said, hoping the frustration she felt wasn't evident in her voice.  
  
She still couldn't believe how eager she'd been to serve on the Ethics Committee when she first arrived on Coruscant. She'd been so certain she could make a difference that she jumped at the opportunity to serve on the committee, hoping she could help make the Republic what it once was; a shining example of a government that was truly of and for the people.  
  
Onara's lips twisted bitterly. She'd been so terribly naive. The level of corruption she had witnessed these last months, as report after report streamed through the committee, and hearing after hearing was held, was beyond belief. And what was most disheartening was that, in the ten years since Palpatine had ascended to the office of Chancellor, the corruption within the Senate seemed to have increased, in spite of all Palpatine's speeches and pledges to bring peace, compassion and sanity back to the Republic.  
  
There was still peace in the galaxy, although the growing Separatist movement was sending a chill throughout the Senate as system after system withdrew from the Republic and rallied around Count Dooku's banner, but sanity was something Onara had seen little of during her tenure as senator for her homeworld. As for compassion, that too was nonexistent.  
  
The recent death threats she'd received had only increased her disillusionment for she knew that some of them came from her fellow senators and representatives. The ones she, Bail and the rest of the committee had been investigating. Just the other day she had received another threat, causing her to wonder whether, although it would break her heart to do so, it would be best to send Ben back to Ahjane. Nothing gave her greater joy than to have her son with her, but she would not risk his life merely for her own happiness.  
  
"What do you want me to do with these?"  
  
Onara shook herself out of her reverie as she looked over at her assistant who was still holding the datadisks out to her. Sighing wearily, she gestured at her leather satchel.  
  
"Throw them in there. I'll read them tonight."  
  
"Yes, Madame. Oh, I almost forgot. This came for you."  
  
The assistant handed Onara an envelope. It was unmarked and, for a moment, Onara felt a wave of foreboding. She didn't take it, fearing it was another death threat. Her assistant stared curiously at her as she continued to hesitate.  
  
"Shall I open it for you, Madame?"  
  
"Who brought it?"  
  
"A messenger service."  
  
"No, I'll open it. Thank you."  
  
Her assistant gave her the envelope, bowed and left the office. It was of a thick, ivory-colored paper. There was also a faint, pleasant scent about it that made Onara think of herbs and incense. With shaking fingers, she quickly opened it, taking out a sheet of paper of the same thick texture as the envelope. As she read the note's dark, bold handwriting, her heart began to beat hard and fast, but not from fear.  
  
_Do you remember the night we walked through the gardens of Suheb Province? I shall be there today at 1100, waiting for you. If you choose not to come, I will understand. But never forget, as I told you once before, that if ever you have need of me, I will come. Without hesitation. But, I pray that you will consent to walk me with once more through the gardens and allow me the honor to enjoy, however brief, the pleasure of your company._  
  
The note was unsigned, but Onara knew from whom it had come. She slowly laid it on her desk as she recalled the night of Senator Rhydgon's party at the Crystal Pavilion. That was the night she'd first seen Obi-Wan after nearly two years apart. He had taken her to the holo-arboretum located within the Pavilion. And there, as if by magic, but actually through the science of hologram technology, had created for her one of the lush gardens of Suheb Province on Ahjane.  
  
A frisson of trepidation and yearning moved through Onara. Ever since Ben's return from the Temple, she had longed to see Obi-Wan, but had dared not contact him, hoping, against hope, he would contact her. But he had not and, as the days went by, Onara had finally convinced herself it was for the best he hadn't.  
  
Dalan had returned the day of Ben's trip to the Temple, contrite and tenderly remorseful, begging her forgiveness for the terrible things he'd said. He had even apologized to Ben, having learned that he had heard the two of them arguing. And Ben who, although he was quite advanced for his age, was still innocent regarding the convoluted pathways that were the hearts of men and women, had easily and readily forgiven Dalan, showering on him all the boundless love he felt for the man he thought of as his father.  
  
As for Onara, she had also forgiven Dalan, as much for herself as for Ben's sake because she wanted desperately for her marriage to work, despite her own misgivings and guilt regarding it. With the whole galaxy roiling in turmoil and chaos about her, she needed the stability and the love of her family. And yet....  
  
Onara slowly closed her eyes, taking in and releasing a deep, shuddering breath. And yet, she went on in her heart, she also longed to hear Obi- Wan's warm, lush, charmingly accented voice once more and look into those blue-gray eyes that were both sea and sky, eyes that continued to haunt her most fevered dreams. To be in his presence, if only for a moment, knowing that, as long as he lived, even if the cold, desolate distances of thousands of light-years and the vows they had sworn to others forever separated them, she would fear nothing.  
  
Carefully folding the letter, Onara slid it back into its envelope. She rose from her desk, placing the envelope inside her satchel. Then she glanced over at the wall chrono. It was nearly 1000. She could make it to the Crystal Pavilion just in time if she left now. Leaving her satchel behind, she picked up her blue velvet cape and, swinging it about her shoulders and drawing its hood over her head, left her office.  
  
To be continued.... 


	22. Part TwentyTwo

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Two  
  
------------------  
  
As Anakin waited before the closed doors of Chancellor Palpatine's inner office, he felt a slight chill in the air. Which was strange because, not only was he wearing his heavy Jedi robe, he could feel that the air temperature was actually quite temperate, if not a bit warm. Then he realized that the chill he felt was not a physical one, but was coming to him through the Force. However, before he could focus on the source of the psychic coldness, the doors slid open and, straightening his robe, he strode into Palpatine's office.  
  
Although Anakin had met with Palpatine before, he had never been invited into the Chancellor's inner office. Palpatine was standing near the wide, room sized window, dressed in a dark robe, his white, leonine head surrounded by light. As Anakin approached, the Chancellor did not turn around, but his voice drifted across the room.  
  
"Welcome, young Skywalker. I am pleased that you were able to find time in your busy schedule to attend me this morning."  
  
Walking faster, for Anakin had noted what sounded like a note of disapproval in the Chancellor's voice, he was quickly at the older man's side, for he deeply respected Palpatine and had ever since he was a boy and met the then Naboo Senator when he came to Coruscant with Master Qui-Gon.  
  
"Forgive me, sir. I deeply regret I was unable to meet with you before."  
  
Palpatine turned and Anakin was relived to see a smile on that proud, noble face.  
  
"How long ago was that?" Palpatine asked. "Six months?"  
  
Anakin nodded.  
  
"No need to apologize," he went on cordially. "I understand that you and Master Kenobi were sent away by the Council on a number of harrowing missions."  
  
"That is true, your Excellency."  
  
"I also heard that your master was injured on one of those missions. How is he, by the way?"  
  
"Much better."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that. Master Kenobi is one of our finest Jedi. It would be a pity to lose someone of his caliber, particularly in these stressful times."  
  
"It would indeed be a great loss to our Order, Chancellor."  
  
"And for you to have someone of his stature as your master. It must be such an honor."  
  
"It is. I am very grateful he took me on as his apprentice."  
  
One of Palpatine's white brows arched up sharply, his gaze keen. "And yet, it wasn't entirely his decision, was it?"  
  
Anakin frowned. "I...I'm not sure what you mean, sir."  
  
"Isn't it true that Master Kenobi's own master, Qui-Gon Jinn, before he died, bade Obi-Wan to train you?"  
  
Anakin swallowed heavily. "Yes, that is true, sir."  
  
"And doesn't a master usually decide for him or herself as to whom will be his or her apprentice?"  
  
"Yes, usually."  
  
"But yours was a special case. And in more ways than one. You were also very old to have begun your training, correct?"  
  
"Yes, I was," Anakin replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as to the direction the conversation had taken.  
  
"And yet, look at you," Palpatine suddenly beamed, his face stretched in a wide smile. "Despite the fact you started much later than the others, you have surpassed them all. I predict that one day you will be the most powerful Jedi ever."  
  
Anakin felt his face flush, as it always did when Palpatine complimented him, which he had done on the occasions over the years Anakin had been in his presence. It still awed him that someone as important and as powerful as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, out of all the Jedi padawans in the Order, had chosen to monitor his training. No other padawan had been so honored. Anakin was confident of that, for he had asked around.  
  
"I don't know about that, your Excellency," Anakin said humbly, but his heart was beating quickly at the Chancellor's words.  
  
"You must never be modest about the truth," Palpatine said, his voice slightly sharp. "Modesty is the mask behind which the weak and the inadequate hide."  
  
Anakin frowned slightly. That was the complete opposite of what he'd been taught by Obi-Wan. His master had always stressed that modesty and humility kept the Jedi from becoming arrogant regarding the powers the Force had granted them.  
  
"I understand that the Jedi Temple had a visitor the other day," Palpatine said.  
  
Anakin started, surprised by the sudden change in conversation.  
  
"Yes, sir. Senator Lenor's son, Ben."  
  
"But he wasn't alone, was he?"  
  
"No, Sinja-Bau also accompanied him."  
  
Palpatine nodded at the mention of the ex-Jedi's name, a gleam of recognition in his eyes.  
  
"Did you have a chance to meet him?"  
  
Anakin smiled, his heart recalling fondly the song the two had sung together. "Yes, I did. He's a great kid."  
  
"And very strong with the Force, is that not so?"  
  
Anakin frowned again. "Yes, he is, but----"  
  
"But you're wondering how it is that I am privy to such information?"  
  
Anakin nodded.  
  
"Although I do not spend as much time keeping an eye on the Jedi Order as some of the Senators would have me do, I do try to keep apprised of some things, and it certainly wasn't a secret that Senator Lenor's son had visited the Temple."  
  
"No, it wasn't. He spent most of the day there."  
  
"And most of it with Master Kenobi."  
  
Anakin felt a twinge of anxiety, as he always did when someone he believed should not have any business knowing about Obi-Wan and Ben's relationship began to inquire about the two.  
  
"Yes, he did," Anakin replied cautiously.  
  
Palpatine suddenly laughed. "Now, now, don't concern yourself, my young friend. You need not fear that you will unwittingly reveal Master Kenobi's secret. I know all about him, Senator Lenor and their son."  
  
"You do?" Anakin said, but then he shouldn't have been surprised. Palpatine was, after all, the Supreme Chancellor, but why he should care about Obi- Wan and his relationship with Onara and Ben puzzled Anakin.  
  
"Yes, I do, and, as I noted before, I understand the youngster is quite strong with the Force. Like his father."  
  
Anakin nodded, albeit reluctantly. He still didn't feel comfortable discussing Ben and Obi-Wan, even with someone like the Chancellor.  
  
Palpatine cocked his head, his gaze keen and sharp. "The Jedi Council, I would imagine, must be very eager to train him. He's still young enough to be accepted into the Temple."  
  
Anakin quickly shook his head. "Onara, I mean, Senator Lenor, doesn't want Ben trained. At least not at the Temple. But she is allowing Sinja-Bau to instruct him."  
  
"A wise decision, and quite understandable. And yet..." Palpatine paused, leaning closer to Anakin, "...it must be very tempting for such an accomplished Jedi as Master Kenobi to have someone of his own flesh and blood to be so gifted and yet be prevented from having some part in his training."  
  
Anakin shrugged, but he felt another surge of anxiety as he recalled how he had come upon Obi-Wan doing that very thing with Ben in his quarters. Teaching him how to use the Force.  
  
"Who knows?" Palpatine continued. "Perhaps, at some point, Master Kenobi may even try to convince Senator Lenor to let their son enter the Temple."  
  
"She wouldn't allow it, sir. I'm certain of that. She loves Ben too much to let him go."  
  
Palpatine moved even closer, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.  
  
"Perhaps. But I would imagine that, under the right circumstances, your master could be quite....persuasive with her, even in such a delicate matter as this."  
  
Anakin stared at Palpatine, startled to see what looked like a gleam of lechery in the Chancellor's eyes. But it was so fleeting Anakin told himself it must have been his imagination.  
  
"I don't think there's anything Obi-Wan, or anyone else for that matter, could say to Senator Lenor that would persuade her to give Ben up to the Temple," Anakin said firmly. Then noting the way Palpatine was looking at him, quickly added in a softer voice. "At least, I'm pretty sure there isn't."  
  
"Of course," Palpatine said soothingly.  
  
He stepped away from Anakin and walked over to his desk, Anakin following at respectful distance. The Chancellor paused at his desk, staring down at its sleek black surface.  
  
"Tell me, Anakin, were you aware of the death threats Senator Lenor has received of late?"  
  
"Death threats? No, I wasn't."  
  
Palpatine nodded as he looked over at Anakin, concern on his weathered features.  
  
"They started some months back. They appear to have come about as a result of her work on the Ethics Committee. I was quite right in assigning her to it for she is both fearless and hard-working, but her efforts, I fear, have also put her in grave danger."  
  
Anakin was shocked. He'd had no idea, and he was certain Obi-Wan wasn't aware of the threats for he would have said something.  
  
"What is she doing about the threats, sir?"  
  
"From what I hear, ignoring them for the most part. Except as it regards her son. Viceroy Organa had granted her some use of the Senate Guards, but the cost is quite prohibitive and there have been complaints about it in the Senate. Therefore, I had no choice but to inform Viceroy Organa to cease the assignment of Senate Guard as protectors for Senator Lenor and her family."  
  
"Have there been any actual attempts on her life?"  
  
"None so far," Palpatine replied. "However, the Ethics Committee will be holding hearings later this week. And one of the Senators who has been asked to appear before it is Senator Gillom.  
  
Anakin felt a chill slither down his spine. Even he had heard of Senator Gillom. The Ugan should have been expelled from the Senate long ago for it was no secret he was as corrupt as they come, but he had managed to wriggle out of every indictment that had been levied against him. He was also known to be, though it could never be proved, quite cozy with some of the most nefarious of the criminal elements who inhabited the lower levels of Coruscant. If Senator Gillom wanted Onara dead, he would have no trouble finding someone to do the job.  
  
"Perhaps you should inform Master Kenobi," Palpatine went on, placing his hand on Anakin's arm. "Knowing Senator Lenor, I'm sure she would not mention it, but if anything were to happen to her or their son, and your master discovered he had been kept in the dark regarding such threats, it would surely devastate him. Agreed?"  
  
Anakin nodded. He knew how much Obi-Wan loved Onara and Ben. His master had even called upon the dark side of the Force and risked expulsion from the Jedi Order to save her life. As for Ben, Anakin had seen the joy and pride in Obi-Wan's eyes as he had looked upon his son. If anything were to happen to either of them, he wasn't sure exactly how Obi-Wan would take it, but he had a sick feeling it would destroy his master.  
  
"Yes, I'll tell him. Right away."  
  
"Excellent. I have much enjoyed our little visit and hope that we have cause to meet again in the near future, but I'm afraid I have quite a number of meetings scheduled for this morning."  
  
"Oh, yes, of course, your Excellency," Anakin stammered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take up your valuable time."  
  
"No need to apologize. We will meet again. Rest assured of that."  
  
Anakin bowed deeply and, with a last, parting smile from the Chancellor, left his office. Therefore, as his back was to the Chancellor, he did not see Palpatine's smile suddenly turn as cold and ruthless as his eyes were.  
  
---------------------  
  
Lursan frowned as he looked across the table at Dalan. The two were in an elegant dining room in one of Coruscant's most expensive restaurant. Soaring kilometers high over the cityscape, it was located at the top of a thin, elegant spire and afforded a breathtaking view of the planet-wide city. Lursan had asked Dalan to join him for lunch because he had been concerned when Dalan had not returned any of his messages. Finally, he had demanded to see the young Dynast, pitching his voice in the way Count Dooku had instructed him would activate the properties of the drug Lursan had been putting in Dalan's drinks.  
  
Dalan had shown up, but Lursan noted he was not as compliant as he had been when Lursan had been able to slip him the drug on a regular basis, and when Lursan ordered their lunch, requesting drinks for them both, Dalan shook his head and asked the droid waiter to bring him only water.  
  
During their lunch, Lursan had also discovered that his suggestion to Dalan that he shower Onara with affection in order to quell any suspicions she may have had regarding him and Lursan had backfired. The fool was now blathering about how he didn't want any part of Lursan's plan to take the Jedi Knight out of the picture.  
  
"She doesn't love him anymore," Dalan told him in a firm voice.  
  
"Really, Dalan, you can't possibly believe that."  
  
Dalan's dark blue eyes narrowed. "She wants our marriage to work. She told me so."  
  
Lursan tilted his head, giving Dalan a small, thin smile. "And did she also tell you she no longer loves the Jedi."  
  
Dalan glanced nervously down at the white linen table cloth, now bare of their plates, with only a glass of water before him and a glass of Corellian bourbon in front of Lursan.  
  
"No, not in so many words," Dalan replied. Then he looked up at Lursan, defiance in his eyes. "But I know she needs me."  
  
Lursan shrugged. "Need is not love."  
  
"I don't care," Dalan said, his voice slightly ragged. "I want us to be happy. Maybe you're right. Maybe she still does love Kenobi. But I'm her husband, not him. I know Onara. As long as we're married, she'll not betray that trust."  
  
Lursan frowned again. The drug he'd given Dalan was wearing off. He could see that. And now that the Dynast had also, apparently, stopped drinking, he was not as obsessed with his jealously of the Jedi Knight. Which was the last thing Lursan wanted.  
  
"You don't look like a idiot," Lursan suddenly snarled, frustrated with Dalan's change of heart, "but you certainly talk like one."  
  
Dalan's eyes narrowed until they were thin, blue slits and he leaned across the table, his handsome face rigid with anger.  
  
"Watch your tongue, Lursan," he said sharply. "I fear you forget yourself. I am a Dynast and the blood that runs through my veins is royal. Whereas you..." And Dalan's lips curled with contempt. "You're nothing but a merchant, a commoner."  
  
A hot bolt of anger surged through Lursan, and he was nearly blinded by a red sheen of shuddering rage. It was all he could do to keep from leaping across the table and choking the arrogant bastard. How dare this whimpering, lovesick cur speak to him that way! Lursan had killed any number of men for lesser offenses. But he controlled himself, letting the rage seep out of him. Once he had himself under control, he released a deep breath.  
  
"Forgive me, Dynast Lenor," Lursan said, but his throat was tight with the effort it took him to say those repulsive words. "I meant no offense. It is just that, well, many men have said such things regarding their wives and many of them have discovered, to their great and utter disappointment, that they were wrong."  
  
"I don't care about other men. I know Onara. She wants us to be a family. She told me so. Kenobi is the past, and I want nothing to do with whatever you have planned for him. Actually, I think it best if you were to forget what we discussed before."  
  
Lursan kept his face as neutral as possible, but inside he was seething. He was wrong to have involved the Dynast in his revenge against Skywalker and his master. The man was a complete and utter fool. Onara would betray him. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but eventually she would. The lure of the Jedi would be too much for her, and she would weaken and succumb to her overpowering lust for him. Lursan was certain of this because, over the years, he'd had many mistresses, many of whom had also been married, swearing eternal fidelity to their husbands until he had breached their holier-than-thou defenses. All women, except his beloved wife, were the same; vain, frivolous, lustful creatures, and Onara was no different.  
  
Under the right circumstance she would willingly give herself to Kenobi, and he, for all his sanctimonious adherence to his Jedi Code, would just as willingly take her, as he had the night of the blessing ceremony, and Lursan would not waste any time pitying Dalan when that day finally came.  
  
"If that is what you want, Dynast," he replied, "then we shall speak no more of it."  
  
"It is what I want. I would, of course, like to continue our business arrangements. I believe that many of your ideas for establishing Ahjane businesses here on Coruscant could prove quite profitable."  
  
"Of course," Lursan said smoothly, but he had no intention of remaining on Coruscant or engaging in any business ventures with Dalan.  
  
Once he was done with his revenge against Kenobi and Skywalker, he was leaving this planet of metal and steel forever. He greatly missed Ahjane; the soft green hills of his province and the perfumed gardens behind his manor. Therefore, the sooner he took care of his affairs here, the sooner he could leave. He didn't need this idiotic Dynast. Let him dwell within his fool's paradise while he could. Once Lursan was done, it would soon be a fool's hell, for Lursan had no intention of killing Kenobi as Dalan thought he had.  
  
He wanted Kenobi to live, as Lursan now lived, with the terrible loss of those dearest to him. He wanted the Jedi to lose his son and the woman he loved, just as Lursan had. As for Skywalker, Lursan had not yet found anyone the young Jedi cared for, but he would, and when he did, that person or persons would also die. Lursan had only told Dalan he wanted to kill Kenobi because the Dynast would never have gone along with his real plan; the deaths of Onara and Ben. Lursan rose from the table. He didn't need this fool. Onara and her son would die without the Dynast's help.  
  
Reaching over, he took Dalan's hand and shook it, thanking him for joining him for lunch and barely listening as the Dynast told him he was going to stop by Onara's office and surprise her. The two then left the restaurant together, exiting onto a platform where both hailed individual airtaxes. As Lursan's taxi took him back to his penthouse suite, he bid a silent good riddance to the hapless and soon to be grieving Dynast.  
  
--------------  
  
"I'm sorry, Dynast Lenor, but Onara is not here."  
  
Dalan, who was standing in the reception area of Onara's office in the building near the Senate Rotunda where the Senators and Representatives had their offices, frowned at the young woman, one of Onara's assistants.  
  
"She's not? That's a pity. I was hoping to surprise her. Do you know where she went?"  
  
"No, sir. She left shortly before mid-day. Then, about an hour ago she contacted the office and said she would not be returning."  
  
Dalan released a disappointed breath. His meeting with Lursan had upset him deeply and, as a result, he had wanted to see Onara to convince himself, once he looked into her dark lovely eyes, that everything he had said to Lursan about believing in her fidelity to him was true.  
  
When he had returned to their apartment the day of their terrible argument, he had not expected to be forgiven, for he knew how much his bringing up the subject of the miscarriage of their baby daughter and his belief she had brought it about always hurt her. But she forgave him, as had Ben, his eyes still shining from his visit to the Jedi Temple, and Dalan was so thankful that both had forgiven him, it had not even bothered him when Ben spent the entire evening, until Onara put him to bed, talking about the Jedi Temple and Obi-Wan  
  
When she returned to their room, after having read Ben one of his bedtime stories, Dalan had quickly taken her into his arms and into their bed, and he had done as Lursan suggested. He had made sweet, tender love to his wife, and she had responded to him, lovingly and passionately, or so he had convinced himself. And afterwards, as they lay in each other's arms, Onara had told him how much she wanted their marriage to work. And he had believed her. Because he had needed to believe her.  
  
"Dynast Lenor?"  
  
"Yes," he said, startled out of his heated thoughts of Onara.  
  
"The Senator left her satchel. There are some datadisks in it she needs to read for the upcoming hearings. Would you mind taking it with you to give to her?"  
  
"No, not at all."  
  
The assistant turned and, opening a door, went into Onara's inner office. She returned with the black leather satchel, which she handed to Dalan. He recognized it as the one he had given Onara as a present before she left Ahjane to take up her senatorial duties.  
  
"Is there anything else I can help you with, Dynast Lenor."  
  
"No, thank you."  
  
The assistant bowed slightly and returned to her desk, where she sat in her chair and, without another glance at him, went back to looking at her datascreen. Dalan stood for a moment, his disappointment at having missed Onara like a lonesome voice that kept whispering the same forlorn words over and over. Then, turning briskly, and telling himself he would see her later, he left the office, her satchel firmly in hand.  
  
To be continued.... 


	23. Part TwentyThree

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty - Three  
  
---------------  
  
Onara stood in front of the red-framed door of the holo-arboretum in the Crystal Pavilion, her hands clasped nervously before her. It had been months since she was last here. That had been the night of Senator Rhygdon's ball, when Obi-Wan had whisked her away from it and brought her here. He had placed his palm upon the rectangular piece of gray metal next to the door and it had opened for him.  
  
Now, as Onara clenched her fingers tighter, she wondered if she needed to do the same thing in order to gain entrance. Then she wondered if she should even be here. She had made a promise, both to Dalan and to herself, to be a good wife and do all she could to ensure that their marriage worked. Coming to see Obi-Wan was, she knew, not the thing she should be doing if she intended to keep that promise.  
  
Just as Onara was about to turn away, the door to the holo-arboretum whished open. Her heart beat faster and she felt the rapid pulse in her fingers as she gripped them tighter. She hesitated for a moment, caught between her need to flee this place and her desire to see Obi-Wan. Her desire won out and she stepped inside.  
  
Just as it had been when she and Obi-Wan were here last, the room was filled with the tress, shrubs, grass and flowers of one of the fabled gardens of Suheb Province. Onara knew it was just a mirage, however, created by holographic technology, but her breath caught in her throat at the beauty of it all, her heart aching for her homeworld.  
  
Moving slowly through the room, she saw no sign of anyone else, but she sensed Obi-Wan was nearby. It was as if there was a connection between them that belied explanation, but filled her with a warm thrill of anticipation. She walked further into the room, the hem of her skirt swishing over the floor. Then she stopped, and her heart thudded in her chest.  
  
A figure stood just a few feet away, in front of a bush of honeyroses, clad in a dark brown robe, its back to her and the hood of the robe drawn over its head. Onara moved closer, the blood rushing through her veins. Just as she reached the figure, it slowly turned, pulling the hood down upon the shoulders of the robe and, as Onara looked up into that beloved face and those mystifying blue-gray eyes, her heart wrenching with both love and foreboding, she now knew for certain she should not have come.  
  
"My lady," Obi-Wan said, his voice soft, but husky. "I hoped you would come."  
  
"I should not have," Onara whispered as she moved closer.  
  
"I know. But I'm glad you did."  
  
Onara tried to speak, but her throat was suddenly too tight and it felt as if there was not enough air in the room. Being here with him, alone, it was too dangerous. She had to leave. Now, before it was too late. She quickly turned to go, but felt his hand upon her arm, restraining her, but ever so gently.  
  
"Don't go. Please."  
  
She turned back to him, her eyes locked on his.  
  
"I've missed you so much," Obi-Wan went on, his eyes imploring her to stay. "I would not harm you for the world, Onara, so if you want to leave, I will let you, but, please...."  
  
He stopped and Onara saw that, like her, he too found it difficult to speak. She reached over and placed her palm on the back of his hand where it lay on her arm, noting how warm and muscular his hand was. A current seemed to jump between them and she heard him sharply catch his breath.  
  
"You do not have to beg me to stay, Obi-Wan," Onara replied as she gazed tenderly up at him.  
  
"But I would," he offered, his eyes looking deeply into hers. "I would do anything to spend this time with you."  
  
"Anything?" Onara asked in a teasing voice as she gently squeezed his hand.  
  
"Well, just about anything," Obi-Wan said, laughter in his voice as he led her further into the holo-arboretum.  
  
They walked for a bit, their silence like a bridge which either could cross whenever the other was ready. Onara noted Obi-Wan must have programmed the hologram for sunset because the room slowly began to darken and through the trees she saw red, pink and orange layers of light filling the holographic horizon.  
  
They stopped, her hand now clasped about his arm, and together they watched the sun set. Once it was below the horizon and the sky purpled towards night, Onara drew her gaze away and looked up at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Thank you. That was so very beautiful."  
  
"It was. But nowhere near as beautiful as you."  
  
Onara looked down and away, her cheeks burning at his words. She gripped his arm, even as she again felt that overwhelming rush to turn and go. She had promised, she told herself firmly. She had promised to be a good wife. But how could she be a good wife when she was standing next to the man she still loved and would always love?  
  
"Why did you ask me here, Obi-Wan?" she finally asked, her lips trembling as she said his name.  
  
"Because I wanted to see you. Because Ben told me....he told me he had heard you crying. I can't stand the thought of you crying, Onara. I can't stand the thought of anyone making you cry. Even if he is your husband."  
  
Onara drew her hand away, noting the pained look in Obi-Wan's eyes when she did so, but willing herself to ignore it.  
  
"Being married isn't always blissful, Obi-Wan. Husbands and wives sometimes argue and say things that hurt the other."  
  
"I know that. But what he said to you..." Obi-Wan stopped and moved closer, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Tell you? About my miscarriage?"  
  
She swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the way her skin flared at his touch. "It was between me and Dalan." Then she bit her lip at the flare of pain she saw in his eyes.  
  
"Of course," he said softly as he released her. "You're right. Please, forgive me."  
  
Onara stared at him, cursing herself for her hasty words. Was that her fate, she wondered, to always hurt those who loved her?  
  
"I was so happy when the physician told me I was pregnant," she suddenly said, aware she should not be speaking to Obi-Wan about this, but needing to, she now realized. "I thought it would make things better between us."  
  
"Had things between you been so bad?" he asked, and Onara was grateful to see gentle concern in his eyes instead of the anguish that had been there before.  
  
"Not bad, but not good either." Onara looked down, her shoulders slumping. "I should never have married him, Obi-Wan. It was wrong."  
  
She looked up at him when she felt his hands on her shoulders again.  
  
"You married him for the sake of your people, Onara. And because..." Obi- Wan stopped and, removing one of his hands from her shoulder, gently stroked her cheek, "....and because I asked you to. Don't blame yourself. If anyone is to blame it's me."  
  
"You?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his finger still moving along the curve of her cheek. A knot formed in her throat.  
  
"I wanted you to marry Dalan so that I would not feel guilty for having left you and Ben. But now..." Obi-Wan stopped, moving his hand away and Onara silently mourned the loss of his touch. "...now if I had it to do all over again, I would not have given you so willingly to another man."  
  
"But I know why you did it, Obi-Wan. Because you knew, as well as I, that your destiny is to be a Jedi Knight."  
  
"A Jedi Knight," Obi-Wan repeated, but Onara was stunned to hear a note of bitterness in his voice. "Yes, I am a Jedi Knight. But I'm also a man. With a man's longings and desires."  
  
Her heart stuttered at his words. Yes, he was a man, and she loved him as both man and Jedi, as father to their son and lover to her. And she would have, she now realized, loved him even more as husband.  
  
"Is that wrong?" he asked her, suddenly sounding to Onara like a bewildered little boy, his blue-gray eyes gazing confusedly at her. "To have such longings?"  
  
She reached up and cupped his face, the tips of her fingers stroking his red-gold beard. "No, my darling, it's not wrong. Not at all."  
  
Obi-Wan turned his face, his lips sweeping across her fingertips. Onara's pulse jolted, the blood surging from her fingers and down to her heart where it began to beat madly.  
  
"I came here to offer you my friendship," he whispered, his breath warm and soft across her fingers as he kissed them. "But I was a fool to think that was all I wanted to give you." He reached up and clasped her trembling hand in his, pressing his lips against the palm. "I am your friend, Onara," he murmured against her hand, "but I long so much to be more."  
  
Onara closed her eyes as he continued to kiss her hand, his soft lips moving over her palm and back to her fingers where he gently kissed each tip. She felt as if she were going to faint and, as if having sensed this, Obi-Wan put his arm around her back and pressed her close against him, his mouth sliding to her wrist. He pressed the heat of his lips against the pounding of her pulse.  
  
"Obi-Wan, please," but Onara did not know if she was begging him to stop or not to stop, but when he released her, she knew he had interpreted her plea as one of cessation.  
  
She opened her eyes and looked at him, her gaze drawn to the mouth that had so tenderly kissed her hand. Then she looked up into his eyes and was struck by both the heat and the regret she saw in their blue-gray depths.  
  
"I'm sorry, Onara. Forgive me. I don't know what came over me. That is not why I asked you to come. I do not wish to compromise you in any way."  
  
Onara shook her head. "Don't apologize, Obi-Wan. I...I feel the same way," she confessed softly, "But we both know...."  
  
She left her words unfinished, but Obi-Wan nodded solemnly. Then he sighed deeply and gave her a wistful smile that broke her heart.  
  
"How is Ben?" he asked.  
  
Onara's face broke in a wide smile at the mention of their son. "He's just fine. And he can't stop talking about his visit to the Temple. Thank you for spending some time with him."  
  
"It was my pleasure. I much enjoyed our visit."  
  
Onara moved closer. "Did you, Obi-Wan? Truly?"  
  
"Yes, I did. Though, I must admit," he said with a rueful smile, "I'd never paid much attention to children before. I had no idea how much of a joy they can be."  
  
Onara smiled. "The other thing, second to you, of course, that he talks most about are the lightsabers he said some children had. Is it true, Obi- Wan? Do you allow children at the Temple to play with such dangerous weapons?"  
  
Obi-Wan laughed. "First, they're not dangerous. The lightsabers the younglings have are only practice ones. Second, it's not play. Their training with the lightsabers is a very serious affair. That is," and Obi- Wan grinned, his eyes dancing, "it was serious until Ben's voorpak got loose and he and the Bear Clan chased it through the halls."  
  
Onara's eyes widened. "Oh, no, it did not!"  
  
He laughed again. "It most certainly did. It's been the talk of the Temple the last few days."  
  
Onara frowned fiercely, even as her lips were twisting into a smile. "That little scamp. He didn't say a word about it, but I should have suspected something."  
  
"He's a wonderful child, Onara," Obi-Wan said, his eyes now serious and warm. "You and...and Dalan did a fine job bringing him up."  
  
"He worships you, you know that, don't you?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, but Onara could see a tinge of sadness in his eyes. She glanced around, noting that the hologram program had now cast the room in a soft darkness in which hundreds of stars and a large full moon graced the sky, the shadows of the trees and shrubs close and heavy about them. It reminded her, both painfully and happily, of the night of the blessing ceremony when she and Obi-Wan had stole away from the bridal chamber to watch the katara dance.  
  
Obi-Wan's voice drifted to her through the moon-drenched air. "Will you and Dalan try again? For another child, I mean?"  
  
She looked over at him, barely able to make out his features in the growing darkness, but his eyes burned in his shadowed face.  
  
"I'm afraid to try again," she said, her voice tight.  
  
"Do you want to try again?" he asked, his gaze catching and holding her.  
  
Onara did not answer at first.  
  
"I want another baby," she finally said into the silence that thrummed between them.  
  
"Dalan's?" Obi-Wan's voice was taut, like a bow string that was about to snap.  
  
Onara swallowed, her chest tightening. "I want another baby," she repeated, her voice a whisper.  
  
Obi-Wan stared at her for a long moment, his handsome face set in thoughtful, reflective lines. Onara waited, for she sensed he was about to say something important.  
  
"I've had dreams of late, Onara."  
  
"Dreams?"  
  
"Yes, over the past few months. Dreams about a child. A little girl."  
  
Onara's breath caught in her chest, but she remained silent.  
  
"At first," Obi-Wan went on, "I couldn't see her. She was always hidden from me. But I could hear her crying out for her father. I called out to her, telling her not to be afraid, that I would find her and take her to her father. But, when she heard me, she called me Papa."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped and Onara waited, too anxious to even take a breath.  
  
"Then, on the night before Anakin and I returned to Coruscant, I had another dream about her. But this time I saw her. She had your face, Onara, your eyes, your mouth, your hair, but...." Obi-Wan paused, his gaze boring into hers. "But I knew, when I finally saw her, that she was also mine."  
  
Onara stood, blank and amazed, shaken by Obi-Wan's words. It was just a dream, she told herself. Just a dream.  
  
"I'm married," she said faintly, but the words sounded hollow on her lips.  
  
"I know you are."  
  
"And you're a Jedi."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded and took a step towards her.  
  
"I won't betray my husband," she continued.  
  
"I know you won't," he said softly, moving still closer to her.  
  
"It was just a dream," she said desperately, flinging the words before her like a shield, hoping they would prevent what she both yearned for and dreaded.  
  
"I know it was," Obi-Wan said as he drew her gently into his arms, her face pressed against the softness of his robe.  
  
His heart beat, strong and hard, against her cheek and she felt the warmth of his skin under his tunic and, sighing deeply as she sank into his embrace, she breathed in the scent that always seemed to be about him; the smell of sweet herbs and incense.  
  
Tears welled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "My baby. She...she was a girl."  
  
"I know," Obi-Wan said as lifted her face towards his and kissed away her tears.  
  
Onara clung to him as her months-old grief at the loss of her child surged within her, as fresh and bitter as the day she'd first felt it.  
  
"Every day she grew inside me, I tried to imagine what she would look like."  
  
Obi-Wan's warm lips moved slowly over her wet, quivering cheeks and Onara hugged him tighter.  
  
"Would she have my eyes or Dalan's? My nose or his? Would she look like Ben? Would she be like him?"  
  
A spasm of pain ripped through Onara as she rode out her agony. "Dalan said I killed her. How could he say such a terrible thing! I wanted to die when the physician told me I'd lost our baby! I wanted to die!"  
  
Onara rocked wildly in Obi-Wan's arms, her sobs beating against him like waves against the shore, but like the shore he stood, solid and strong, letting her crash against him until her anguish became nothing more than the calm ripples of a quiet grief. Then, when her tears finally subsided, he gently pulled away.  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes prickling with the remnants of her spent tears. His were so full of empathy and love it both healed and broke her heart. Then, closing her eyes, she waited. Waited until she finally felt his warm, sweet mouth descending upon hers and, throwing her arms fiercely about his neck, she gave herself, freely and willingly, to the passion of this long-desired kiss.  
  
To be continued.... 


	24. Part TwentyFour

NOTE: Hi everyone and thanks, as always, for your wonderful comments. I'm trying to write a little more often, so I hope to have another part up in the next couple of days. Thanks again! This chapter is a bit short, but I wanted to get something up so you wouldn't think I'd abandoned the fic. :)  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Four  
  
----------------  
  
Dalan paced through the empty apartment. Ben was on an excursion to the Holographic Zoo with Sinja-Bau. Keria was on a date with some boy. Dalan didn't know him, but apparently she'd met him at the ball at the Crystal Pavilion she had attended with Onara some months back.  
  
Outside the apartment's wide windows the sky, crowded as it always was with lines of shuttling air traffic, darkened towards early evening. Stopping in front of one of the windows, Dalan stared out it. He didn't like this planet. Didn't like that it was entirely covered by buildings, without a hint of green anywhere. Didn't like the smells or the noise or the way the sun shone here. He longed so much to return to Ahjane with Ben. And Onara.  
  
He tried to swallow in a tight throat. Onara. Where was she? After he had left her office near the Senate Rotunda, he had returned to the apartment. He had seen Ben off with Sinja-Bau and had watched, amused, as Keria had flitted around getting ready for her date. He had then watched her leave with the red-haired boy, her bright blue eyes shining with excitement. And he had waited. Alone. Waited for Onara to return.  
  
Dalan turned away from the window and walked back into the common area. Only one lamp shone in the spacious room. The rest of the apartment was shadowed as the sun slowly set. He did not know what to do with himself. Except for Lursan, his family, Sinja-Bau and Keria, he didn't know anyone on Coruscant, and he hadn't wanted to know anyone because he didn't want to be here. He'd only come because Onara had insisted he bring Ben to her.  
  
Dalan stopped, his hands clenching and unclenching. Where was she? He looked over at the chair next to the couch. Her black leather satchel lay where he had left it. He walked over and picked it up. He gripped it, taking in and releasing a deep breath. He had never looked through her things for he had always respected her privacy. He looked hard at the satchel. It was the one she took with her to her office. What did he think was in it?  
  
He placed it back on the chair. Walking over to a small cabinet in the corner of the room, he opened it and took out a bottle of brandy. Lursan had sent it over earlier. Dalan had thought he was still angry with him after their conversation the other day so he had been quite surprised at the gift. However, since he had stopped drinking, he had stored it, unopened, in the cabinet.  
  
Dalan slowly tilted the bottle. The light from the solitary lamp highlighted the dark auburn liquid inside. He imagined how the brandy would taste on his lips, sliding down his tongue and his throat, and how it would ease the ache that was beginning to throb inside him.  
  
He closed the cabinet and took the bottle with him. In the kitchen he took a glass off a shelf and, opening the bottle, poured some brandy into it. Just one glass, he told himself. He raised the glass and quickly downed the brandy, grunting softly. It slid down his throat, smooth and warm, reminding him of Onara's skin. He frowned, seeing her face in his mind, her beautiful, dark eyes gazing up at him.  
  
_I want to be a good wife to you, Dalan. I swear. I want our marriage to work._  
  
Dalan gripped the empty glass, recalling her softly spoken words. Then he remembered something. Onara had not said she loved him. He had said it to her, over and over, the night they'd made up. But she had not said it. As a matter of fact, he suddenly realized, not once since they'd been married had she ever said 'I love you' to him.  
  
Without even realizing he was doing so, he poured more brandy into the glass. He drank it quickly, spilling some of it on his shirt. Then, taking both the glass and the bottle with him, he returned to the common room. His gaze fell on the leather satchel. Placing the glass and the bottle on a table next to the chair, he picked it up again.  
  
This is wrong, he told himself, even as he undid the clasp. A voice inside him implored him to put the satchel down, reseal the brandy bottle, take the glass into the kitchen, rinse it out and put it back on the shelf. It begged him to read a book instead or watch a holo-film. Do anything but open that satchel.  
  
Dalan closed his eyes, the brandy moving through his body like a mist, his thoughts whirling like a out-of-control carousel. Where is she? he asked the voice inside his mind. Can you tell me where she is? Or who she is with? The voice did not answer.  
  
Dalan quickly opened the satchel. He slipped his hand inside, pulling out some file folders, data disks and an unmarked envelope. He opened the file folders. They contained the financial reports of senators the Ethics Committee was investigating. He placed the folders on the table along with the datadisks. That left the envelope. He opened it and took out a single sheet of paper.  
  
He read the note, then read it again. Read it until he could no longer see the words because his vision was blurred. A knot formed in his stomach, hot and hard as a burning coal. Then he heard a sound. It sounded like a whimper or perhaps a snarl. He didn't know which. Then he heard another voice inside his head. Onara's voice, soft and low, the way it was when he held her in his arms, her body warm against his.  
  
_I love you_ she whispered, but it wasn't to him she said those words.  
  
Dalan heard that strange sound again as, with shuddering fingers, his eyes tightly closed, he crushed the note between his hands. Crushed it until it was nothing but a wrinkled mass of paper. Crushed it the way he longed to crush the Jedi's throat. Then he released the balled up paper and let it fall to the floor near his feet. He glanced down. Raising his shoe, he ground the wrinkled paper into the carpet.  
  
He turned slowly, the paper crackling as he lifted his foot from it. He looked at the bottle of brandy Lursan had sent him. Picking it up, he poured more of it into the glass. Then he slumped in the chair the satchel had been in, staring at the front entrance to the apartment with narrowed eyes. The entrance through which, eventually, she would have to walk. For she would come back. She had to. He was her husband, after all.  
  
Dalan drank his brandy, his throat working, his eyes stinging. She would come back, he assured himself as he poured more brandy into the glass. And he would be waiting for her here in the darkness and the emptiness she had bequeathed him.  
  
------------------  
  
The statue flowed and undulated, its fluid contours changing shape with every shift of Onara's thoughts. After having sat before it for over an hour, the statute, where it lay upon its black dais, was now a shimmering blue-green ovoid, with only a hint of the sharp, red edges it had displayed when Onara had first focused her thoughts on it.  
  
The statue had come from Cadarus, but it was not made of stone or marble. It was a non-sentient lifeform called the _khora_. The inhabitants of Cadarus harvested and cultivated the _khora_ and Cadarusian artisans, through the use of telepathy, trained the _khora_ to respond to the feelings and thoughts of those who looked upon it, compelling it to change its shape and colors to reflect the observer's state of mind.  
  
Onara released a deep breath, her hands clasped in her lap as she gazed at the _khora_. For the past few hours, ever since she had parted from Obi-Wan earlier in the afternoon, she had been walking alone through the wide corridors of the Coruscant Museum of Intergalactic Art and Culture. For months she had longed to come here, but had not found the opportunity to do so. Today, however, had seemed a good time to visit it, especially as she had desperately needed to be alone to think.  
  
Hearing approaching footsteps, Onara reluctantly turned her head from the _khora_. A trio of Mrlssi were walking towards her. The Mrlssi were small, bird-like beings native to the planet Mrlsst. With their large black eyes, blue-feathered skin and bright-colored plumes for hair, there was no question as to their avian heritage. The three approaching Onara were two adults, one taller than the other, who held a smaller Mrlssi in its arms.  
  
Smiling as they drew closer, Onara inclined her head. The taller Mrlssi stopped and, head titled, looked over at her.  
  
"Merry meeting," it trilled in its high-pitched Basic.  
  
"Merry meeting," Onara responded.  
  
"I see you have been partaking of the _khora_. You have transmitted upon it a most agreeable appearance."  
  
Onara glanced back at the undulating statute. "I'm afraid it didn't appear quite so agreeable when I first looked upon it."  
  
The taller Mrlssi ruffled its head plumes in what Onara took to be either a sign of agreement or dismissal.  
  
"That is usually the case when most patrons first look upon the _khora_. Agitation and distress, it would appear, are the natural state of mind for all sentient beings in these unsettling times. Would you not agree?"  
  
Onara nodded, but remained silent. She quite agreed with the Mrlssi's assessment, for there was no doubt she had been quite agitated and distressed when she'd entered the museum some hours ago.  
  
"Do you come often to look upon the _khora_?" she asked politely.  
  
The Mrlssi sniffed audibly, and the smaller Mrlissi, who was clutching his arm, joined him, with the offspring imitating its parents as it too sniffed at Onara, blinking its bright, black eyes.  
  
"Yes. I, my mate and our eggling come every day to look upon the _khora_." The male Mrlssi looked disdainfully around at the other exhibits. "It is the only piece in this mausoleum of horrors worth spending one's time with."  
  
He looked back at Onara, his black eyes bright and piercing. "Mrlssi art is the only true art," he went on in a smug voice. "You were aware of that, were you not?"  
  
Onara wasn't aware of that, but she had heard that the Mrlssi, although highly appreciative of the art, literature and music of their own kind, considered the creations of other cultures utterly vulgar, if not downright horrendous.  
  
"I'm afraid I've never see any example of Mrlssi art," Onara replied in what she hoped was a diplomatic tone, "so it would be difficult for me to make a judgment."  
  
The male Mrlssi sniffed again, the thin nostrils of his flat, blue nose flaring.  
  
"I'm not surprised you haven't. There are no pieces of Mrlssi art in this museum. A travesty I have brought to the curator's attention on more than one occasion."  
  
The female Mrlssi tugged on her mate's arm. "Perhaps we should leave, Tian, and come back another day."  
  
Onara quickly stood. "No, please. I was just about to leave. I've been here for hours. It's time I was on my way home."  
  
"Are you certain?" Tian asked. "Your formation is actually quite remarkable for a non-Mrlssi. We would be honored to watch you create another."  
  
"No, really, I must be going."  
  
"Very well."  
  
The three Mrlssi moved past Onara and, as she stepped aside, her gaze fell on the eggling as it clung to its father's chest. Although there was no resemblance between the Mrlssi youngster and Ben, like all children throughout the galaxy, the Mrlssi had the same wide eyed innocent look. Onara's throat tightened. She suddenly longed to see Ben, feeling almost a primal need to hold him in her arms and press his warm, small body close to hers.  
  
The Mrlssi settled themselves in front of the _khora_. Then, as Onara watched, it began to change, morphing into shapes and colors she would never have imagined existed. She stood, entranced, unable to tear herself away. But when the male Mrlssi turned and blinked rapidly at her, its hair plumes ruffling in an agitated manner, Onara sensed she had probably worn out her welcome.  
  
Giving him a small smile, she turned with a sharp swirl of her skirt, leaving the Mrlssi to their communion with the _khora_. It was time she was on her way home anyway, she told herself firmly. She had lingered in the museum long enough, cowardly putting off what she knew she had to do. The sooner she informed Dalan of her decision, the sooner it would be over. She could only hope he would understand and, thereby, make it easier for them both.  
  
As Onara walked through the corridors towards the museum's entrance, she looked up through the large skylights of the ceiling and saw it was darkening towards early evening. She had been at the museum far longer than she'd planned. Moving quickly through the hallways, her thoughts returned to earlier that afternoon and what had happened after Obi-Wan had taken her into his arms and kissed her.  
  
To be continued... 


	25. Part TwentyFive

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Five  
  
-------------  
  
Obi-Wan's mouth was like a brand as he moved it slowly over Onara's mouth, burning not only her lips, but her soul. His arms tightened around her, crushing her against his warm, strong chest, his heart beating fiercely against hers. Onara eagerly returned his kiss, just as passionately, just as urgently, and was rewarded with a low, soft moan from Obi-Wan as their kiss deepened.  
  
A tumult of feelings washed over Onara as they kissed and yet, even as she floated within the ecstasy of Obi-Wan's embrace, she tried to sort them out. Desire? Yes, very much so, desire as hot and violent as a supernova. Love? Most assuredly, for she loved this man with all that she was and ever would be.  
  
But, along with those emotions others, less pleasant, began to rear their ugly heads; feelings of guilt and betrayal and the realization she wasn't on Ahjane in one of the fabled gardens of Suheb province under a moon and star-filled sky, but on Coruscant, the capital city of the Republic, where she was not only a senator but a mother and a wife.  
  
With both reluctance and regret, Onara tried to pull away, to break their heated kiss, but Obi-Wan did not release her. He was seared to her, just as surely as if they had been soldered together. The warmth of his body, the heat of his kiss, had made them one and the potential sundering was, Onara sensed, painful to him.  
  
She moved her hands from about his neck, placed them on his shoulders and tried to push him away, but Obi-Wan did not let her go. Instead, he moved his mouth away from hers, but only to slip it along her throat and up to her ear, his arms still locked around her.  
  
"Onara, please, I want you," he moaned, his breath moist and hot in her ear. "I want you, I want you so much."  
  
Onara closed her eyes, tears prickling behind the lids. She kept her hands on his shoulders, but she stood motionless in his arms, listening to his tortured breathing, feeling the rapid throbbing of his heart, unable to ignore the physical evidence of his arousal as he held his body tight against hers.  
  
"I want you too," she whispered, but even as she spoke those words she pushed him firmly away.  
  
Obi-Wan stepped back. Onara looked up at him. His normally light blue-gray eyes were so dark they looked almost black, his handsome face flushed, even as she imagined hers was. Both were breathing heavily, as if they had just run a race or had given in to their passions and were now breathless in the afterglow of their lovemaking.  
  
"I'm sorry, Onara. I don't know what came over me." Obi-Wan reached up and drew a shaking hand through his hair. "I'm acting like some hormonal adolescent."  
  
Onara drew in a deep breath, struggling to regain her composure. "Don't apologize, Obi-Wan. You didn't do anything wrong."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I didn't ask you here for this. I wanted to see you, to make sure you were all right. Offer my friendship and my services to you." Obi-Wan stopped and his eyes bored deeply into hers, filled with both love and agony.  
  
"But when I see you, when I'm near you..." He reached over and stroked her face with the back of his fingers,"...all I want to do is touch you," he finished softly.  
  
Onara sighed, rubbing her face against his hand. "And I you."  
  
Obi-Wan cupped her cheek, his fingers caressing her skin as he trailed them along her chin. Onara turned her face and, as he had done earlier, kissed his hand, her lips moving over the rough calluses on his palms and fingers, the fine red-gold hair on the back of his hand.  
  
"My love," she whispered. "My love."  
  
"I'm here," he said gently. "As I told you the night of the blessing ceremony. I'm here and I'll always be here."  
  
Onara continued to kiss his hand, her desire for him moving through her body like wildfire. "May the gods of my fathers forgive me, but I want you so much. So much."  
  
"I know." Obi-Wan looked around the holo-generated landscape. "We can't be together here. In reality this is only an empty room. But there is a place..." he stopped and looked over at her, and Onara's breath caught in her throat at the unabashed desire she saw in his face.  
  
"Do you remember my friend, Dex?"  
  
"The one who owns the diner?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. He reached inside one of the pouches on his utility belt and pulled out a slipkey.  
  
"Besides the diner, Dex owns a couple of apartment buildings in Coco Town. Unfortunately, however, most of them are now empty. Many are leaving Coruscant and returning to their homeworlds because of the number of successions from the Republic. As a result Dex has lost many tenants. He gave me one of the empty apartments, telling me I could use it as my home away from the Temple. Although," and a wry grin creased Obi-Wan's mouth, "I think he intended I use it for any romantic trysts I might wish to arrange. He worries about me, saying its unnatural for a man to be alone."  
  
Onara's lips curled into a knowing smile. "And have you, Obi-Wan?"  
  
"Have I what?"  
  
"Arranged any romantic trysts?"  
  
"No, not hardly." He looked at the slipkey as he held it between his fingers. Then he looked over at Onara. "There's no one I want but you," he said, causing the blood to sing in her veins. "But, we could..."  
  
Then he stopped and looked at her, his hopeful expression quickly replaced with resignation. He put the slipkey back into the pouch. Onara reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently as she gazed up into his eyes.  
  
"You're right, Obi-Wan. We could. Very easily. We could go to that apartment and make love, over and over, but at some point we would have to stop. And we would have to leave and come back into the real world where you are a Jedi Knight and master to Anakin, and I am a married woman. And what we would feel afterwards, Obi-Wan, having indulged our passions? Would we feel the same way we feel now?"  
  
Obi-Wan slowly shook his head. Onara released his hand and, for a moment, both were silent, Onara thinking that she needed to go, now, before she changed her mind and let Obi-Wan use that slipkey and take her someplace private where she could once again lie in his arms and experience the magic and the passion of the night of the blessing ceremony.  
  
But, she told herself firmly, she was no longer a naivé girl who had sworn to her father she would not participate in such an archaic and barbaric ritual with a man she had never met. She was a woman now, a senator of her homeworld, and a mother and wife. She could not afford to indulge in her girlish fantasies, no matter how intoxicating they might be, and no matter how much she wanted Obi-Wan.  
  
And she did want him, she realized with a sharp pang as she looked over at him, nothing every beloved feature, every cherished aspect of his being. She wanted him so much that if she didn't leave, and leave now, she would give in to what they both desired, thereby damning them both.  
  
"Onara?"  
  
"Yes, Obi-Wan."  
  
He moved closer and gently took her by the arms. "I want to tell you something. Something important."  
  
Onara smiled, for Obi-Wan's voice was so earnest and solemn it reminded her of Ben when he ached to tell her about something he'd learned from Sinja- Bau.  
  
"The night of the blessing ceremony," Obi-Wan went on, "When your father brought you to me. Do you remember?"  
  
Onara laughed. "How could I forget. I fainted."  
  
Obi-Wan joined in her laughter. "You most certainly did, scaring me and your father to death, I might add." Then his face sobered and his gaze caressed her face.  
  
"When I first saw you, so beautiful, so lovely, clinging to your father's arm and looking at me as if I were the devil himself, I fell in love with you. At that very instance."  
  
Onara was about to scoff, for she had never believed in love at first sight, but when she saw the look on Obi-Wan's face, she bit her lip instead, her heart beating wildly in her chest.  
  
"But...you didn't act like you loved me," she said. "You acted as if I were nothing but a...a nuisance to you."  
  
Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders, his eyes dancing with laughter. "It wasn't you I considered a nuisance, Onara, but I did find the whole blasted blessing ceremony quite annoying."  
  
A corner of Onara's mouth quirked up. "Well, you knew how I felt about it, Obi-Wan. I made no secret of it."  
  
"No, you most certainly did not," he replied smiling. Then his smile faded away and he sighed, lowering his head as if he were contemplating some important matter. He lifted his face and looked at her.  
  
"Close your eyes," he said.  
  
Onara shook her head, fearing he was going to kiss her again and knowing if he did, she might not be strong enough to resist him this time.  
  
"Don't worry, Onara. I just want to give you something. Something special. Something I've been wanting to give you for a long time. But, you have to close your eyes."  
  
Onara stared at him, but she saw only a gentle yearning in his beautiful eyes. She slowly closed hers. Then she felt the tips of his warm, callused fingers against her temple, stroking her hair.  
  
"Breath, Onara. Breath slowly but evenly. Yes, that's it," Obi-Wan's warm, soft voice directed her. "Now, clear your mind. Try to imagine a landscape as barren and as white as a winter world. See nothing but that and hear nothing but my voice.  
  
Onara did so and, as she did, she felt a tingling in Obi-Wan's fingertips. The sensation was both cold and warm, as if electric currents were passing from his hand and into her head. She shivered but kept her eyes closed, listening to Obi-Wan's low, gentle voice as he helped her mind to open, like a flower beneath the sun's rays. Then Onara felt that current of energy moving into her mind and through her veins, into every part of her body, sweet and warm like honeyed wine. She gasped softly, throwing her head back, Obi-Wan's fingers still on her head.  
  
"What...what are you...doing?" she whispered.  
  
"Shhhh," he said to her, his fingers pressing a little harder into her skull. "Concentrate. Clear your mind. Open yourself to me, Onara."  
  
She took in and released a deep breath, doing as Obi-Wan instructed. Then she felt a soft explosion in her mind, like one of the puff-flowers in the gardens of her estate back on Ahjane. Every spring the puff-flowers would release their thick, yellow seeds into the air, the distended petals finally bursting when the flower could no longer contain the seeds. But, it was not seeds which filled her mind. It was him. Obi-Wan.  
  
"Oh, gods," Onara cried, for she had never felt anything like this. She trembled wildly, her hands reaching up to clasp Obi-Wan by the arms. His fingers pressed harder against her head, and she felt his warm breath moving across her face.  
  
"Onara," Obi-Wan whispered as he channeled more of that energy into her. So this was what it felt like she marveled. The Force. Both warmth and cold, fire and ice, darkness and light, contraction and expansion: an all- pervading awareness of life as it pulsed and throbbed throughout the galaxy; of power as it ebbed and flowed through immeasurable dimensions of space; of time as it moved inexorably toward eternity. And, most of all, of him.  
  
For along with the Force, Onara also felt Obi-Wan. And she knew him then, knew him as completely as she knew herself. In this moment eternal, between one breath and the next, she was a part of him in a way no corporal joining could ever hope to reproduce. For she was Obi-Wan. She was his flesh, his soul, his heart. His fears and his joys, his hopes and his dreams, everything he was and everything he longed to be Onara felt: his fierce devotion to the Jedi Order and his late master, his love for her, Ben and Anakin, his worries about the future, his passionate longing for her, and his loneliness.  
  
A tear slid beneath Onara's eyelid. She had not realized how lonely he was, how much he longed for her and Ben, how torn he was between his love for her and their son and his need to remain loyal to the Order he had served all his life and the master he had both loved and worshipped.  
  
All this and more Onara felt as Obi-Wan fed the Force to her, though she was acutely aware she was only experiencing a modicum of what it must be like for him as a Force sensitive. And this, she also realized with wonderment, was what her darling Ben felt, for he too felt the Force. Like his father.  
  
Onara did not know how long Obi-Wan channeled the Force to her, but when he finally stopped, taking his hands from her temple, she felt dizzy and swayed slightly. Obi-Wan quickly grabbed her.  
  
"Onara, are you all right?"  
  
She took a deep breath to steady herself. Then she looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder.  
  
"Obi-Wan," she cried. "I never knew. I had no idea." She shook her head in amazement. "What a wondrous gift you have."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. "A gift? Yes, a gift, but it can also be a curse."  
  
"A curse? I don't understand."  
  
"The Force is an energy field, Onara. It binds the universe together. And, although there is much debate within the philosophical circles of the Jedi Order as to whether the Force is sentient or non-sentient, it is alive, but alive in a way that defies explanation. And being alive, it has a purpose."  
  
A frown creased Onara's forehead. "A purpose? I don't understand, Obi-Wan."  
  
He gave her wry smile. "Neither do I, sometimes. Qui-Gon understood it far better than I for he was a devout adherent of the Living Force."  
  
"The Living Force? What is that?"  
  
Obi-Wan laughed softly and touched her cheek. "Someday, perhaps, I'll explain it to you. Suffice to say, Qui-Gon's way was to follow wherever the Living Force led him, never questioning it as I sometimes did. A time when I sincerely questioned him about it was when we were on a planet called Arorlia. While there we came across a mountain and on the slopes of that mountain we discovered a sacrificial altar to a Silan."  
  
"A Silan?" Onara felt a chill slither down her spine as she repeated the word.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes darkening, as if he too had felt what she'd felt. "A creature of the Dark Side. It was my desire to leave immediately, but Qui-Gon insisted on finding the creature and destroying it. And we found it and we destroyed it."  
  
Onara was breathless as she listened to Obi-Wan's story. "What was it like?"  
  
"Huge, hideous, and the Dark Side energy that emanated from it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Our battle with it was very fierce. But we finally defeated it."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped and released a heavy breath. "Afterwards, I asked my master why we had killed the Silan. He said we were Jedi and our lives were not ours to live as we might wish. I understood that, for I had been taught it since I was a child, but I still did not understand why we had to kill the Silan. It was not harming us, I told him, although I was also very much aware many innocent beings had been sacrificed to it. All Qui-Gon would say, however, was that the ways of the Force were often beyond our understanding, and I would be called upon to do many things I did not want to do. Our path is not an easy one to follow, he told me."  
  
Obi-Wan gazed deeply into her eyes. "We must soon part, Onara, and we must never see each other alone like this again. You know this."  
  
Onara's throat tightened and she nodded.  
  
"And I must follow the Force," he said, but it sounded to her as if the words were being ripped out of him. "Wherever it leads me, I must go. And I must remain true to the Jedi Order and do as I vowed to my master I would do. Train Anakin to become a Jedi Knight. For our prophecy tells us he is the one destined to bring the Force back into balance."  
  
Onara nodded, but remained silent, only gazing solemnly up at him. Obi-Wan stared at her, then suddenly grabbed her arms and pulled her close to him, his face inches from hers.  
  
"But I also want you Onara. I want to be your husband and a father to Ben," he said fiercely, his eyes burning into hers. "I can't bear.." he stopped and swallowed heavily. "I can't bear the thought of you with Dalan," he finally said, his voice thick and harsh. "Of his touching you, holding you, loving you. I can't bear the fact my son calls him father." He looked at her, his expression twisted with grief and shame. "Dalan is jealous of me?" he cried in an incredulous voice. "It is I who should be jealous of him, for he has you and Ben and I do not. And I am jealous of him, Onara. I am. And it shames me to feel it and admit it."  
  
Onara reached up and cupped Obi-Wan's face. "Oh, darling, don't be ashamed. There you go again, acting as if you're not human like the rest of us poor souls. Dalan knows he may have me as his wife, but he doesn't, nor shall he ever have my heart. I gave it to you the night of the blessing ceremony. It will always be yours. Always."  
  
"But I can't claim your heart, my love," Obi-Wan cried in a tortured voice as he grabbed her hand. "I must not claim it. The Force." His face twisted, his eyes filled with torment. "I must listen to it and follow it."  
  
"I know," Onara said soothingly. "I know."  
  
She leaned up and gently kissed his face, soft, small kisses across his cheeks, along his chin, over his closed eyelids. Kissed him the way she would kiss Ben when she wanted to soothe his fears and his tears. Obi-Wan pulled her into his arms, but they only held each other this time, with none of the fevered passion of their earlier embrace. Just two people who loved, but could not follow the path of their love. Onara finally drew away, but reluctantly.  
  
"I will never forget your gift, Obi-Wan," she said softly. And she never would. The joining of their souls through the Force would live with her forever.  
  
Obi-Wan leaned down and pressed his lips against her ear. "I wish I could do that with you every night, my love."  
  
Onara shivered, imagining such a spiritual union coupled with the physical one they could have enjoyed as husband and wife. If only their destines had been different, she mourned inside her heart. If only.  
  
Soon after, realizing the world outside the holo-arboretum awaited them both, they parted, with the promise they would see each other again, but never alone. Obi-Wan waited with her on the top of the Crystal Pavilion, the air buffeting them both, until an air-taxi finally came for her.  
  
He had then bid her goodbye, bowing to her as a Jedi Knight should to a member of the Galactic Senate, but she had seen the profound love and yearning in his eyes as he helped her into the air taxi. It had then taken off and she had looked back at Obi-Wan where he stood, his hood drawn over his head, not moving as he watched her depart, until he finally disappeared from her sight amid the spires and canyons of Coruscant's metal skycrape. And then, instead of returning home, for she was far too worked with all that had happened, she had gone to the art museum. And while there, staring raptly at the _khola_ statue, had finally come to her decision.  
  
She would ask Dalan for a dissolution of their marriage. Not to marry Obi- Wan, for that would never happen. His life was the Jedi Order and always would be, but because it was not fair to her or to Dalan for them to remain married. The political reasons for their marriage no longer existed now that Ahjane was a member of the Republic. And she could no longer remain married to a man she did not love.  
  
As for Ben, she knew it would be hard for him, but no good could come of him having to listen to her and Dalan argue. And argue they would, for she could never give him what he so desperately wanted. Her love. She hoped, however, still amazed and grateful at how much Dalan loved Ben, that he would remain in Ben's life as his father, but she could no longer be his wife.  
  
She had been married twice, both times to men she did not love, both times for political reasons. She would never marry again, she vowed. She would concentrate all her energy on being a senator to her people and a mother to Ben. He would be her life now.  
  
And, as the air taxi sped her towards her apartment, she could only hope Dalan would agree with her that this was the best for all concerned.  
  
To be continued.... 


	26. Part TwentySix

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Six  
  
-------------  
  
Lursan winced as the bitter-tasting liquid slid down his throat. The drink was supposed to be Corellian brandy, but it tasted as vile as _kyok_ urine. Not that he'd ever tasted the liquid waste of the ubiquitous Ahjane livestock, but he imagined the taste of this swill came fairly close.  
  
He gingerly placed the glass on the table, noting with distaste that despite the barmaid's wiping down of the table's surface, it was still sticky with a variety of substances. He looked over at his companion. Senator Gillom appeared quite comfortable in their surroundings. But then it was the Ugan who had suggested they meet here.  
  
"Not to your liking, eh?" Gillom said, his reptilian face creased in what Lursan assumed was a smile, his four eyes blinking in synchronous movement.  
  
Lursan shrugged. He had not come here to drink and had only done so because Senator Gillom had insisted on buying him one.  
  
"I've had better."  
  
"I'm sure you have." Gillom looked around the dark, smoky room, his long, yellow tongue darting out of his wide, lipless mouth. "_The Dark Nova_ is not renowned for its drinks, but it does have its uses."  
  
Lursan had no doubt of that. Located deep in the underbelly of Coruscant's lower levels, the club appeared to cater to the lowest common denominator of Coruscant society. But, based upon what Count Dooku had told Lursan about Senator Gillom, he was not surprised the Ugan was familiar with it.  
  
Gillom was about to be brought before the Senate's Ethic Committee for actitivies ranging from bribery to extortion to illegal kickbacks. It was not the first time such charges had been brought against him, but on those previous occasions Gillom had been able to wriggle out of the indictments. This time, however, the senator was not so certain he would escape what Lursan suspected was his just retribution. And that was why he had sought out Lursan's services.  
  
The Ugan picked up his own glass which was filled with some repulsive looking concoction that resembled congealed blood. He drank it quickly, smacking his lipless mouth as he placed the glass back on the table. Lursan struggled to hide his disgust. It was bad enough the Ugan stank, giving off a reeking odor as thick and putrid as a swamp, but he was also the most disgusting creature Lursan had ever seen.  
  
But then, having lived all his life on Ahjane, which was inhabited solely by humans, Lursan had found most of the aliens he had encountered since arriving on Coruscant repulsive. Except for, and his gaze slid over to the lithe, orange-skinned barmaid who had brought them their drinks, the Twi'leks.  
  
Noting where Lursan was staring, Gillom laughed, the sound similar to that of boulders crashing against each other. He reached across the table and placed his large, three-clawed hand on Lursan's arm. A tremor of revulsion rolled through Lursan, and it took all of his willpower not to snatch his arm away. The Ugan lewdly winked two of his four eyes.  
  
"You have excellent taste for a _midrib_. She is a tasty little dish, is she not? After we are done with our business, I invite you to join me in procuring her services for the night."  
  
Lursan's mouth twisted. He slowly eased his arm from under Gillom's heavy hand. If this perversion of nature thought he was going to engage in some kind of sick threesome with him and the Twi'lek female, he was as stupid as he was ugly.  
  
"Perhaps we should get down to that business," Lursan offered.  
  
Gillom shrugged his broad shoulders, the leather of his expensively tailored, ruby red leather coat creaking. Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice. Overwhelmed by the Ugan's reek, Lursan made himself breathe through his mouth. There really was no need for the senator to get so close. They were sitting in a booth in a secluded corner of the club, and the throbbing music from the speakers all around them was so loud there was no way anyone could hear them.  
  
"You come highly recommended," Gillom said. "And the Count vouches for you. But, I warn you. Cross me and you're a dead _midrib_."  
  
"I have no intention of crossing you, Senator Gillom. I am a businessman. You want a service done, I will do it. Once I have fulfilled my part of our bargain, you will fulfill yours by paying me and that, as they say, will be that. I have no interest in what goes on here politically."  
  
Gillom grunted, his four, blood-shot eyes narrowing. "Normally I would not have engaged the services of one such as you. There are many here on Coruscant who would be more than willing to take such a job."  
  
"I have no doubt there are."  
  
"But Dooku said you have a personal stake in seeing that this is done."  
  
"I do."  
  
The Ugan's face creased again in what Lursan assumed was a smile. "And you do not wish to discuss it?"  
  
"I do not."  
  
"Fair enough. But, I still think the target should be Viceroy Organa. He is, after all, the head of the Ethics Committee. His death would send a stronger message."  
  
Lursan suppressed a sigh. He and Gillom had discussed this already. "True, but as I told you before, the death of Senator Lenor would send an even stronger message."  
  
Gillom shook his head and frowned. "She is a freshman senator. From a backwater planet on the edge of nowhere." Then his lipless mouth wrinkled. "No insult intended, of course."  
  
Lursan inclined his head, but made himself ignore the Ugan's slurring of his homeworld. "I can not dispute that, Senator Gillom, but if Onara were to die, it would send a more chilling message to the other members of the Committee. And don't forget. As a result of her run in with Dsylogia Twang she is far more well-known among the populace than Viceroy Organa."  
  
Gillom stared at Lursan, then picked up his glass and drank from it. Lursan waited patiently, knowing the Ugan senator was mulling over his words. In truth, killing Viceroy Organa would be the smarter way to go if Gillom and others like him wanted to send a message to the Committee, but Lursan had no interest in killing the Alderanni senator.  
  
Initially, he had planned on taking his revenge against Kenobi and Skywalker without involving anyone but the hapless, lovesick Dalan, but Count Dooku had suggested that since there were others who sought Onara's death, Lursan might as well profit from it.  
  
"Fine, kill her," Senator Gillom said as he set his now empty glass on the table, the reddish, ropy dregs of the drink dribbling down the glass sides. "But..." and he raised one thick, clawed finger. "...only her. I don't want anyone else harmed. Especially her child."  
  
Gillom then lowered his finger and grinned companionably over at Lursan, his sharp, yellow teeth gleaming in his green, scaly face. "We're not butchers, after all."  
  
Lursan said nothing, only nodded. Gillom passed over a slender datapad. Once he had received confirmation Onara was indeed dead, he would transfer the agreed upon credits to an account Lursan could access through the datapad. Lursan took it and slipped it into a pocket of his jacket.  
  
Gillom grinned at him. "Now, are you sure you don't want to take me up on my offer? It will be my treat."  
  
His four eyes slid over to the orange-skinned Twi'lek barmaid as she weaved gracefully through the crowd, balancing a tray full of drinks on her slender hand. Lursan's throat tightened with renewed repugnance, but he willed his voice to remain neutral.  
  
"No, but thank you. I must get some rest. I want to take care of our business as quickly as possible. Then I shall be returning to Ahjane."  
  
A look of utter incomprehension fell across Gillom's scaly face. "Ahjane? Here on Coruscant one can find and enjoy every pleasure imaginable." He leaned over and leered at Lursan. "And some you have yet to imagine. Why would you want to go back to such a backward, provincial planet?"  
  
_So I won't have to look at monstrosities like you any longer_, Lursan thought but did not say.  
  
Instead, he rose from the table and gave Gillom a short, but courtly bow. "Enjoy yourself, Senator."  
  
Gillom stared at him then shrugged his broad shoulders. "Suit yourself."  
  
He waved at the Twi'lek, who hurried over, her supple lekkus wriggling along her shapely back. As Lursan walked away, he heard the Senator earnestly negotiating the barmaid's price for her services that night. Moving quickly through the crowd, the thumping, animalistic music of the club throbbing in his head, the stench of myriad alien bodies and exotic drugs filling his nostrils, Lursan barely noted any of it for his thoughts were elsewhere.  
  
Gillom didn't want Ben harmed. But the senator had not lost a son. Lursan had and also a dearly loved wife as a result of that son's death. Therefore, he would not be denied his revenge, notwithstanding the questionable scruples of a vile, disreputable creature such as the Ugan.  
  
As Lursan stepped through the doors of the club and out onto the dank, dark street he stopped and looked up. Level upon level of garish lights and gaudy holo-verts soared above him. But somewhere beyond the darkness and the squalor of Coruscant's underbelly, in the pristine, glimmering edifice that was the Jedi Temple, Knight Kenobi probably slept.  
  
However, once Lursan was done with his business, it would be the last peaceful night of rest the Jedi would ever know, for soon he would be well acquainted with what Lursan was now so familiar with. The never-ending grief and crushing pain of having lost both a beloved and a son.  
  
--------------------  
  
Onara drew in a deep, shuddering breath as the doors to the lift slid shut behind her. She closed her eyes, suddenly unsure about her decision to ask for a dissolution of her marriage now that she was actually home. But then, recalling Obi-Wan's tortured confession to her regarding his longing for her and Ben, her resolve strengthened. Leaving Dalan would probably not ease Obi-Wan's suffering, but it would at least keep her from having to continue living a lie. She quickly smoothed her damp palms along the soft velvet of her skirt and, straightening her shoulders, moved out of the vestibule of the apartment and into the common area.  
  
As she turned the corner she stopped. The apartment was dark and she could detect no sign anyone was within. She knew Sinja-Bau had taken Ben out for an excursion earlier in the day, but she'd assumed the two would be back by now. It was getting close to Ben's dinner time.  
  
She moved further into the room, then gasped. What she had thought was a shadow was actually Dalan. He sat to her right, slumped low in a chair. She could barely make out his face for the only source of illumination in the apartment were the lights of Coruscant's night-time skyline through the wide windows.  
  
"Dalan?"  
  
"Onara."  
  
"What are you doing sitting in the dark like this?"  
  
"Waiting for you."  
  
Onara swallowed heavily for she heard an undercurrent of slyness in his voice that sent a chill down her spine.  
  
"Where is Ben?"  
  
"Don't you know? You are his mother, after all."  
  
Onara bristled at Dalan's tone. "Of course I know where he is. He's with Sinja-Bau. What I meant was are they back yet?"  
  
"No, they're not back yet." Dalan shifted in his chair, his face moving into shadow. "And Keria isn't here either. We're alone, Onara. Just you and me."  
  
Onara walked over to him, needing to see his face. He didn't move as she approached, but his eyes, now that she could see them, were red-rimmed, their dark blueness looking almost black in the dimness of the room. She moved towards the couch next to the chair, having decided this was probably the best time to speak to him about her decision since, as he noted, they were alone. She took off her cloak and laid it on the couch. Then, folding her hands, her back straight, she sat on the edge of the couch and looked over at Dalan.  
  
His expression was shuttered, but his eyes watched her with a sharp if somewhat bleary keenness. Then she noted the empty glass in his hand and the equally empty bottle of brandy next to him on a table. Disappointment streaked through her.  
  
"You've been drinking."  
  
Dalan chuckled as he raised the empty glass and inspected it. "How astute of you to notice, my love."  
  
"You promised you wouldn't drink anymore."  
  
Dalan lowered the glass. It slipped from his hand and rolled across the carpet.  
  
"And you promised you would be faithful," Dalan countered, but Onara barely heard his words for she was staring at two things: her black leather satchel where it lay on the floor and a crumpled up sheet of paper next to it.  
  
Her throat tightened, her hands balling into fists. Raising her head, she glared at Dalan. He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.  
  
"Yes, my dear and loving wife. I know all about your little tryst with your Jedi lover."  
  
"How dare you go through my things," Onara cried.  
  
Dalan's dark brows drew low over his eyes. "How dare I? How dare you come home to me after having left the adulterous bed of your lover. Prancing in here as if nothing is amiss. As if I...."  
  
Dalan stopped, his throat working. He reached for the brandy bottle but, noting it was empty, picked it up and threw it across the room. It crashed against the wall, shattering into pieces. Onara jumped at the sound, the muscles in her body sharply contracting, her heart beating wildly, but she willed herself to calm down.  
  
"Dalan, you don't know what you're talking about," she said in a soft, even voice. "I haven't left anyone's bed."  
  
Dalan leaned over, a smirk on his clearly intoxicated face. "No? Then where have you been all day? I went to your office. They told me you had left for the day. That was early this afternoon. Where have you been if not in Obi- Wan's bed?"  
  
"If you must know," Onara said as she struggled to control her anger, "I've been at the Museum of Intergalactic Art and Culture."  
  
One of Dalan's eyebrows arched sharply. "Oh, really? The Museum of Art and Culture? Is that where adulterous wives on Coruscant go to meet their lovers? How terribly stylish."  
  
"You're drunk," Onara snapped. "Therefore, I see no point in continuing this conversation."  
  
"You see no point?" Dalan leaned forward, his face bloating with rage. "This has nothing to do with what you see or do not see, my dear and loving wife. This has to do with what I see, and with what I want, and what I want- -no--what I demand is to know where you've been all day."  
  
Onara rose from the couch and looked over at Dalan where he sat in the chair.  
  
"I will not be questioned as if I were a criminal," she said in a harsh, cold voice. "I told you where I was. If you wish to believe otherwise, that is your affair."  
  
"An apt choice of words, Onara. Affair." Dalan tilted his head, his lips curling. "By the way, I did not know the Intergalactic Museum of Art and Culture also exhibited the Suheb Provinces."  
  
Onara glanced at the note from Obi-Wan which Dalan had found and had, apparently, crumpled in his anger. For a moment, tears stung her eyes for it felt as if he had not only crushed Obi-Wan's missive to her, but something even more valuable. Her trust in him.  
  
She looked back at Dalan. There was no use talking to him when he was in this condition. She would wait until tomorrow to discuss ending their marriage, after he had sobered up and was thinking more clearly.  
  
"Dalan, I'm going to take a shower and change. If you like, I could make you some kafe. It will help sober you up."  
  
"I don't want to be sober. I like being drunk." He waved his hands around. "It makes everything look clearer to me, this state of drunkenness, and I find I can now see things that I could not before."  
  
"You're talking like a fool," Onara snapped, suddenly tired of the conversation and of him.  
  
Dalan shot out of his chair and grabbed Onara by the shoulders, shaking her wildly.  
  
"Fool?" he snarled. "Fool! Yes, I am a fool. For having believed you."  
  
"Let me go," Onara cried as she struggled in his grasp.  
  
Dalan tightened his grip, his eyes boring into hers. Onara could now smell the alcohol on his breath and something else. Something that smelled like cloves. She put her hands on his chest and pushed against him.  
  
"I said let me go!"  
  
"No, I'm not going to let you go," Dalan seethed. He pulled her hard against him, his arms like steel bands around her. "You're my wife, Onara. _My_ wife. Not his. And you're going to do your wifely duty by me. And when I'm done, I promise you, you'll no longer want your Jedi lover. I'll see to that."  
  
He picked her up, even as Onara struggled in his arms, beating at his shoulders and chest, and carried her to the bedroom. She fought him, wildly, desperately, but he was not only taller, but much stronger. Once inside the bedroom, ignoring her cries for him to release her, he threw her on the bed.  
  
Onara quickly scrambled up, but Dalan grabbed her roughly by the arms and threw her back onto the bed. Pushing the thick strands of her hair out of her face as she sat up, she tried once again to get off the bed, but Dalan grabbed her, twisting her arms.  
  
"Dalan, please, stop this." Onara cried out from the pain as Dalan squeezed her arms harder. "You're drunk. You're not yourself."  
  
"No! You're my wife. And drunk or not on my part, faithful or not on yours, you will not refuse me my rights as your husband. I'll make you forget him. I'll make you forget."  
  
Dalan threw himself onto her, tearing at her clothes. With a surge of both anger and fear, Onara slapped him hard across the face. Dalan's eyes widened, his face reddening where she had struck him.  
  
Both of them paused, the only sound their quick, harsh breathing and, as Onara stared up at Dalan, she suddenly felt as if she had crossed over a threshold into a world that was dark and cold and utterly desolate.  
  
_It's over_ she thought with both relief and regret. _It's over_.  
  
Dalan stared down at her, his eyes searching hers, and Onara saw he too realized the same thing. But, instead of releasing her, he growled deep in his throat and pushed her back onto the bed, his mouth seizing hers. As he roughly kissed her, his body pressing her brutally onto the bed, Onara could taste the brandy he'd been drinking and, also, the clove scent she'd sensed earlier.  
  
Frantically twisting her mouth, a blind, whirling panic whipping through her as she realized her own husband intended to rape her, Onara grabbed Dalan's lower lip with her teeth and bit down on it. With a howl, Dalan jerked away from her.  
  
Onara sprang up, rolling across the bed, her hands scrabbling across the nightstand next to the bed. She grabbed the first thing she touched, the statuette of Romal and Juvial, Ahjane's fabled lovers. Dalan, upon his arrival on Coruscant, had brought it out of the common room and into the bedroom.  
  
Brandishing the statuette like a weapon, Onara watched as Dalan gingerly touched his lower lip. She was both pleased and dismayed to see blood on it. He stared at his bloodied fingertips, then looked over at her.  
  
Even as Onara held the statuette in her hands, determined to strike him with it if he advanced on her, she noted the look of confusion and pain on his face. Pity welled in her heart. Pity and an overwhelming sense of grief. How had it come to this? she wondered. But, she also knew that no matter how it had come to this, it had to end. Now.  
  
"Dalan," she began, slowly lowering the statute, but keeping a wary eye on him. "We can't go on like this. It has to end."  
  
"End?"  
  
Again Onara felt anguish churning inside her. He sounded so confused, so lost.  
  
"Yes. Our marriage. It has to end."  
  
Dalan stared at her for a moment, a flurry of emotions Onara found impossible to read flitting across his face. He looked around the room, as if he were searching for something or someone. Then he looked back at her.  
  
"You want a dissolution?"  
  
Onara nodded, too worked up to speak. Again, fleeting expressions sped across Dalan's face, but then they finally settled into one of hard suspicion.  
  
"Why? So you can marry the Jedi?"  
  
"No, not so I can marry him," Onara cried. "I don't ever want to marry again. I just want...." She stopped. "I just want to be happy."  
  
"And you're not happy with me?"  
  
Onara's shoulder's slumped, her gaze falling to the floor. She couldn't look at him.  
  
"No, I'm not," she finally said. "I was happy when we were first married. But after....after the miscarriage....you changed." Onara's voice faded away.  
  
Silence filled the room, then she looked up. Dalan was staring at her, but his eyes were now harsh and cold.  
  
"Is this what you really want?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"And what about the Assembly? Do you think they will allow us to dissolve our marriage?"  
  
Onara had thought about what the Assembly would say, though not too deeply. The political reasons for her and Dalan's marriage no longer existed now that Ahjane was a member of the Republic. And, she thought, anger suddenly surging through her, she didn't care one whit what the Assembly said or did.  
  
She was tired of having to live her life for the sake of the state. She had married Dalan's uncle, Edress, for the sate of state. She had married his nephew for the state of the state. No more, she thought. If she ever married again, which she sincerely doubted she would for she loved only one man and he could not marry her, it would be for love only.  
  
"I don't care what the Assembly says or wants," she retorted. "Our marriage will end."  
  
Dalan's firmed his mouth, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he speared her with a ruthless look.  
  
"I won't let you take him."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I won't let you take Ben," he said and his voice, though slurred, was harsh and unyielding. "Dissolve our marriage if you like. Go off and marry Obi-Wan if you want. But I won't let you take Ben."  
  
Anger burned through Onara and she tightened her grip around the statuette. "Ben is my son. He's coming with me."  
  
"No. Leave if you want, but Ben stays with me."  
  
A sudden realization shot through Onara. "You don't care about Ben. You just want to keep him with you because you know it will hurt me."  
  
Dalan frowned darkly. "That's not true. I love Ben. I gave him my name. And, according to Ahjane law, that makes him my son."  
  
"But he's not your son, Dalan."  
  
A tremor of pain flashed across his face.  
  
"I'm as much a father to him as that Jedi is or ever will be," he suddenly shouted. "More so. How much time has he spent with Ben? Hardly any. And so what if Ben carries his blood. There's more to being a father than that."  
  
Onara couldn't deny the truth of Dalan's words, but it wasn't Obi-Wan's fault. He had done what he'd thought was best for her and Ben. And she had encouraged him to return to the Jedi Order. Dalan made it sound as if Obi- Wan had abandoned his child.  
  
"I won't let you take Ben," Onara repeated.  
  
Dalan crossed his arms over his chest, his head tilted to the side.  
  
"I'm sorry, Onara. But, the way I see it you don't have a legal leg to stand on. Especially when I present evidence at the dissolution hearing that you are an adulteress."  
  
Shock thrummed through Onara. Ahjane law was very strict when it came to any hint of impropriety within a marriage, particularly if charges of adultery were brought against the wife. Many a woman had lost her children as a result of such accusations. And the evidence need not be overwhelming. The note Dalan had found from Obi-Wan would be enough to convince most judges on Ahjane that Onara was not a fit mother.  
  
"I won't let you take my baby," she said, a steely determination in her voice. "I'll fight you, Dalan. I'll fight you with everything I have."  
  
"Which won't be much," Dalan countered. He smiled unkindly at her. "As an adulteress, I'll not only get custody of Ben, but all your property and your wealth. You will be penniless, my dear."  
  
"I don't care about the money, but if you try to take my son from me, I'll kill you."  
  
"So now, finally, my loving wife, you show your true colors. You're just like that merciless grandmother of yours, the late, but sadly unlamented Lady Tsara. Nothing but a murderous witch."  
  
"And you're just like your uncle," Onara fired back. "Heartless and cruel."  
  
Dalan shrugged. "Perhaps. But I meant what I said."  
  
"What happened to you, Dalan?" Onara asked in a grief-stricken voice, suddenly overcome by everything that had happened between them. "You didn't used to be like this."  
  
"What happened to me?" Dalan paused, his expression pained. "You happened to me," he said softly, but sadly. "I didn't want to love you. I understood and accepted, as you did, the political reasons for our marriage. I knew you had feelings for the Jedi. But, despite all that, I fell in love with you."  
  
Dalan stopped, his eyes, which had been cold and dark, now filled with anguish.  
  
"Why couldn't you have just loved me?" he whispered.  
  
"Oh, Dalan, I'm so sorry," Onara cried. "Truly I am. I wanted to love you. I tried to love you. But..."  
  
"But you just couldn't forget him, could you?" Dalan exclaimed, the pain in his eyes now replaced with rage. "You spent one night with him, Onara. One night! And it was a blessing ceremony, by all the gods! You were supposed to forget him. I'm your husband. Not him. Why couldn't you love me?"  
  
Onara lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes. "You don't understand," she said in a low, hurt voice.  
  
"What is it that I don't understand?" Dalan demanded. "What? That you bore him a child because of the intrigues of that witch of a grandmother? So what? That he traveled to the ends of the galaxy to save your life? What does that matter? After he did so, he promptly left you alone with your child."  
  
"But not because he wanted to," Onara cried. "And he encouraged me to marry you. He wanted us to be together, to be happy."  
  
Dalan nodded, but his face was twisted in a sneer. "How very generous of him. But, you see, it's now all so very clear to me. By marrying me you would increase your wealth and your property. Ben would have my name and become my heir. And then, when the time was right, the Jedi would become your lover, and the two of you would conspire to do away with me. He could then lay claim to both you and Ben along with all my wealth."  
  
Onara's eyes widened with horror at Dalan's words.  
  
"You must be mad to even consider such a terrible thing," she gasped. "And if you think that of Obi-Wan, it's clear you know nothing of him. And it also tells me you're not only a fool, but an insane one."  
  
Dalan's face twitched spasmodically, his cheeks mottling with rage, but it looked to Onara as if he were engaged in some kind of internal battle within himself. He put his hands to his forehead and moaned, closing his eyes as if in pain. Onara put the statuette on the nightstand and made to go to him, but she stopped when he opened his eyes and glared at her, their dark blueness blazing.  
  
"I won't let him have you, and I won't let him have Ben. I'll see to that."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Dalan nodded, his face burning with a livid glee. "I'll see to it the Jedi gets nothing. Has nothing. Is nothing."  
  
"You dare threaten him?" Onara said in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
"Onara, please, stay with me." Dalan reached out a hand imploringly to her. "It doesn't have to be this way. Abandon this foolish idea of a dissolution and nothing of what we have spoken of this day need happen."  
  
"Now you seek to blackmail me."  
  
"It's not blackmail, but if you don't come to your senses, I can't be responsible for what happens as a result."  
  
"You're the one who needs to come to your senses." Onara fiercely shook her head. "I'm sorry, Dalan, but I can't go on like this. If we remain together, we'll only keep hurting each other. It's best that we part. We can consult solicitors back on Ahjane as to how to dispose of our joint properties, but---"  
  
Before Onara could finish, however, Dalan had lunged across the bed. He grabbed her, shoving her against the wall. Even as she fought him, she was dimly aware of the sound of the lift door sliding open out in the vestibule.  
  
"Let me go!" Onara cried.  
  
"I won't let you take my son!" Dalan shouted, slamming her hard against the wall.  
  
Onara's head rung as she struggled to keep her wits about her. She made herself remember the self-defense tactics Padmé and her handmaidens had taught her. When Dalan jerked her away from the wall so he could slam her against it again, she managed to hit him hard in the midsection. He cried out, doubling over. Onara darted from out of his arms and ran across the room. Then she turned, her face blazing.  
  
"He's not your son," she sobbed, unable to stop her tears. "He'll never be your son. Never!"  
  
"I'll die before I see that Jedi with you or Ben," Dalan shouted as he advanced on her. "Or maybe he'll be the one to die."  
  
Onara raised her hands in the defensive position Padmé and her handmaidens had taught her, Dalan's words sending a chill of foreboding through her. But, before Dalan could reach her, he suddenly flew back, slamming against the wall. He cried out as he slid in a lump to the floor.  
  
Onara turned, her eyes wide. Sinja-Bau stood in the doorway of the bedroom. The ex-Jedi's hand was raised, her blue-green eyes blazing. She looked over at Onara. But, before either women could say a word, a small figure darted from around Sinja-Bau and into the room.  
  
Onara's heart lurched in her chest as Ben threw his arms around Sinja-Bau's legs, his little face streaked with tears, his blue-gray eyes wide as he looked up at her.  
  
"No, Bau-Bau, don't hurt Papa. Please, don't hurt him."  
  
To be continued..... 


	27. Part TwentySeven

Thanks everyone for your wonderful comments! I'll try to post more often. Here's a long one for you to enjoy. At least I hope you do. :)  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Seven  
  
------------------------  
  
Onara rushed over to Ben. She knelt down and gently took him by the arms, her heart breaking at the look of both fear and pain in his face.  
  
"Ben, darling, come to Mama."  
  
Ben released Sinja-Bau's legs and turned to his mother, moving into her arms. Onara held him close, his cheek soft and wet on hers from his tears, his small body, which she noted with a sharp pain was trembling, pressed against hers.  
  
"It's all right, darling," she whispered. "It's all right."  
  
But Onara knew she was lying. Nothing was all right and, she feared, would not be all right for a long time. She stood, her arms around Ben and looked over at Dalan.  
  
He was slumped against the wall, but was conscious. He stared back at her with a dazed expression. Ben lifted his face from Onara's neck and looked over at him.  
  
"Papa," he said softly.  
  
Onara swallowed in a tight throat. She turned and looked over at Sinja-Bau. The older woman still stood in the doorway of the bedroom, but she had lowered her hand. She gave Onara a stricken look, her blue-green eyes filled with what looked like shame.  
  
"I'm sorry---" she began, but stopped as Dalan slowly rose to his feet, groaning as he did so.  
  
Onara turned back to him. He reached around and gingerly touched the back of his head. She gasped when she saw the blood on his fingers, her arms tightening around Ben. Dalan looked at his bloodied hand, then at Sinja- Bau.  
  
"You tried to kill me," he said.  
  
"No, no," Sinja-Bau said quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to---"  
  
"Get out," Dalan slurred. "Get out before I call the authorities."  
  
"She's not going anywhere," Onara said firmly. "If anyone is leaving, it's you."  
  
"What?" Dalan whirled on Onara. "You're asking me to leave?"  
  
"I'm not asking, Dalan. I'm demanding that you do so. You can come back when you've sobered up. But I won't have you here while you're in this condition."  
  
Dalan glared at her, then made as if he was going to advance on her, but suddenly stopped. Onara saw he was staring at Ben where she held him in her arms. Dalan slowly reached out a hand towards him, but it was the bloodied one. Ben whimpered, his arms tightening around Onara's neck. She moved away from her husband, her only thought to keep him from Ben.  
  
At her movement Dalan quickly lowered his hand, his face stricken. Onara felt a surge of pity for him, but only for a moment. He had laid hands on her, tried to hurt her, rape her, something he had never done before. Though she doubted he would harm Ben, she wasn't going to take that chance.  
  
Dalan stared at her and Ben, his dark blue eyes pleading. Then he released a deep, shuddering breath. Glancing over at Sinja-Bau, a frown creased his forehead and his gaze sharpened.  
  
"Dalan, let me look at your injury--" Sinja-Bau said, stepping towards him.  
  
"Don't touch me," he snarled. "This is all your doing. You've always been against me. You Jedi are all alike. You all stick together. You're probably the one who gave Onara the idea about ending our marriage."  
  
Sinja-Bau looked over at Onara, her expression one of puzzlement. But Onara didn't want to discuss any of what had happened between her and Dalan in front of Ben. Her only objective was to get Dalan out of the apartment.  
  
"Please, Dalan, this isn't the time to discuss this. Sober up and we can talk about this tomorrow. I want to put Ben to bed. He's seen and heard enough, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Dalan drew his frenzied gaze away from Sinja-Bau and back to Onara. Again, she saw that hurt look on his face as he looked at Ben.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ben," he said gently. "Truly, I am. I didn't want you...I didn't mean for you to..." Dalan stopped and looked down at the carpet.  
  
"I know, Papa. I know you're sorry. Does your head hurt?"  
  
Dalan reached back and touched his head, wincing as he did so. "Not much, but I'll take care of it. You go with Mama, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"All right, Papa."  
  
Dalan moved past Sinja-Bau and Onara. As he did so, she saw the blood on the back of his head.  
  
"Dalan, please, let us take care of your injury before you go."  
  
Dalan turned, his expression closed and dark. "I'm fine, Onara. I'll have it looked at when I get to Lursan's."  
  
She frowned at the mention of the Ahjane businessman. "Is that where you're going?"  
  
Dalan shrugged. "Where else can I go? And at least I know I'll be welcome there."  
  
"Dalan, please, don't be this way---"  
  
But he had already turned and, the lift door sliding open and shut behind him, left the apartment.  
  
Onara released a deep breath. She walked over to Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi was staring at the wall where she had thrown Dalan. There were some spots of blood on it. She turned to Onara, her expression troubled.  
  
"Forgive me, Onara. I didn't mean to hurt him. I'd just gotten back with Ben and I heard the two of you shouting. I took Ben to his room, told him to wait there. When I saw Dalan coming at you, I just reacted."  
  
Onara reached over and placed a hand on Sinja-Bau's arm. "It's all right, Sinja-Bau. Don't trouble yourself. You did the right thing."  
  
"No, you don't understand," she said in a low voice. "It's not all right. And it wasn't the right thing."  
  
Then she noted Ben staring at her. She reached over and gently stroked his cheek.  
  
"Do you forgive me, little one, for hurting your Papa?"  
  
Ben nodded. "I know you were just trying to help Mama. But I was so scared, Bau-Bau. I thought you were going to kill Papa. You were so angry. I could feel it through the Force. It made me feel cold and dark."  
  
Sinja-Bau nodded, but Onara saw she was still quite upset. She wasn't sure what was going on with Sinja-Bau, why she was so distressed by what had happened, but she sensed it was something very important to her.  
  
"Are you all right, Sinja-Bau?"  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," but Onara plainly heard in her voice that the older woman was far from fine. "Perhaps you should get Ben something to eat, Onara." She touched Ben's cheek again. "Aren't you hungry, dear? It's been hours since we had lunch."  
  
Ben shook his head, his face sad. "I'm not hungry, Bau-Bau."  
  
Onara stroked his soft black hair, nuzzling his cheek, dismayed at the look of sorrow on his face. "Well, what about a glass of milk and some Silrian berry-cookies? Would you be hungry for that?"  
  
Ben's eyes, which still glistened with tears, brightened at the mention of his favorite treat. "But, Mama, you only let me have berry-cookies after I finish my dinner."  
  
"I know, darling, but we'll make an exception for tonight, all right?"  
  
Ben eagerly nodded. Onara was just about to take him to his bedroom, but she stopped and looked back at Sinja-Bau. The ex-Jedi stood, her shoulders slumped, staring down at the floor.  
  
"Sinja-Bau, are you sure you're all right?"  
  
Sinja-Bau's head jerked up, her features clouded, but she quickly smoothed over her face and gave Onara a smile, if a tad wan.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. Really. I'm going to my room to meditate for a bit. I'll be there if you need to talk."  
  
Then she glanced over at Ben, indicating she understood Onara's reluctance to discuss what had happened between her and Dalan in front of him.  
  
"Thank you, Sinja-Bau. I hope your meditation proves restful."  
  
Onara turned and, with Ben in her arms, took him to his bedroom. She pressed open the door, the lights coming on as she entered. His room, like always, was a kaleidoscope of scattered toys, clothes and holo-books. She gently put him on his bed, noting that Obi-Wan, his pet voorpak, was sleeping soundly in a padded box on the nightstand.  
  
"Now, wait here and I'll be right back with your cookies and milk."  
  
"All right, Mama."  
  
Onara went into the kitchen and got the cookies and a glass of milk, placing them on a tray which she carried into Ben's room. He had taken off his shoes and was playing with one of his Force toys. As Onara sat on the side of the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand, Ben levitated the top of the toy, which looked to her like some kind of puzzle box.  
  
She waited, awed as always by Ben's command of the Force. She would have never thought in a million years she would ever have a Force sensitive child. But then, she told herself, she would never have imagined she would spend the night of a blessing ceremony with a Jedi Knight either.  
  
Ben finished with his toy, putting it on the floor. Onara slid in next to him on the bed. He nestled beneath her arm, his head resting against her side. She handed him one of the cookies and the glass of milk. And she waited. Waited to see if he would reveal to her how much he had heard of her and Dalan's argument.  
  
But Ben remained silent. He hummed softly to himself as he ate his cookies and drank his milk, occasionally peering around her to look over at Obi- Wan, who remained serenely oblivious to them both.  
  
Onara lowered her chin onto the softness of his thick black hair, so much like her own, humming along with him. If not for the echoes of the words she and Dalan had hurled at each other still rumbling in her ears, she would have thought this night was no different than any other night she had put Ben to bed.  
  
But it was different. And she couldn't pretend it wasn't.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
Onara's heart thumped in her chest.  
  
"Yes, darling?"  
  
Ben gave her his empty glass of milk. She put it on the tray. Then, noting there were some cookie crumbs around his mouth, she gently brushed them away.  
  
"Is Papa going to be all right?"  
  
"Yes, he'll be fine."  
  
"Will he come back?"  
  
"Yes, he'll come back tomorrow. He just needs to...to be away from us for a bit."  
  
Ben reached down and ran his fingers along the velvet of her skirt.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Yes, Ben?"  
  
"If I promise to be good, will you and Papa not fight anymore?"  
  
Onara's eyes widened and, reaching down, she cupped Ben's chin and lifted his face towards her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I heard you tell Papa I wasn't his son. I thought maybe it was because I've been bad. That you didn't want Papa to have someone like me for his son."  
  
"Oh, Ben, darling, no," Onara cried, almost overwhelmed by his words. "That's not it at all. You're a wonderful boy, and any man would be proud to have you for his son."  
  
"Really, Mama?" Ben asked as he looked up at her with Obi-Wan's eyes.  
  
"Yes, yes," she cried, holding him close, struggling to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.  
  
"Then will you and Papa not yell at each other anymore?"  
  
Onara held Ben close, her throat tight with pain. She had not thought this was going to be easy, ending her marriage, but the effect she knew it was going to have on Ben was almost more than she could bear. He loved Dalan so much that the dissolution of their marriage would most certainly cause him great pain, but would it be better for her to remain married and have him witness scenes like that which had occurred this evening? She didn't think so.  
  
She kissed the top of Ben's head, then drew back from him. Looking down, she stroked his soft cheeks, her heart swelling with love as she gazed down at her son.  
  
"Ben, I wish I could promise you that we won't yell at each other anymore, but---"  
  
"It's complicated." Ben nodded. "That's what Master Kenobi said. That sometimes things that happened with adults were complicated."  
  
Onara nodded, a small smile on her face. "Yes, dear, that's right. It's complicated."  
  
Ben scrunched up his face. "But, Mama, what does it mean? Complicated?"  
  
"Well, it means something that's difficult to understand at first."  
  
"Like the lessons Bau-Bau gives me?"  
  
"Yes, like that."  
  
"But, if I study really hard and I do what Bau-Bau tells me, then I understand."  
  
Onara smiled, kissing his check. "Yes, you do, darling. You always do."  
  
"So, I'll understand this too, right?"  
  
Onara stared at Ben for a moment. How could a child who was not quite four understand something that she at twenty-two didn't herself understand; the ways of the human heart. The love she felt for Obi-Wan could never match what Dalan wanted from her. She knew that. And the love she felt for her son surpassed anything she could ever have imagined or dreamed. She had not thought it possible that she could love anyone as much as she loved Ben. But she did.  
  
He was what mattered, she told herself. His happiness and his well-being. Not hers. Not Dalan's. It would hurt him, there was no question, her and Dalan's dissolution, but in the long run it would be for the best. And, hopefully, Dalan would come around when he was thinking more clearly. Then, like two rational and reasonable adults they could come to an agreement regarding Ben's future that would, she hoped, lessen the pain of their separation for him.  
  
"I hope someday you will understand, Ben. And I'm sure you will. You're a very smart boy. Very bright. But, right now, I want you to do Mommy a big favor."  
  
"What, Mama?"  
  
"I want you to put on your night clothes, get back into bed and go to sleep. It's been a very long day and you need to rest."  
  
"Will you tell me a story if I do?"  
  
Onara touched him lightly on the tip of his nose with her finger. "Of course I will, dear."  
  
"A story about Obi-Wan? You haven't told me one about him in a long time. I know you just make them up, Mama, but I like them."  
  
Onara laughed, pleased to see Ben was none the worse for having witnessed that dreadful scene earlier.  
  
"Yes, I'll tell you one about Obi-Wan."  
  
Ben leapt out of the bed and ran about the room, looking for his night clothes. Onara watched him, a smile on her lips. Once he found them, he ran into the fresher. She heard him running water as he cleaned his teeth and washed up. She was tempted to go and help him, but the last time she'd done that he'd complained she was treating him like a little kid.  
  
He finally came out of the fresher, his night clothes on, his feet bare, his hair slightly damp. He grinned at her as he climbed into the bed and cuddled close to her. Onara pulled the blanket over them both, having kicked off her slippers. She could smell the sweet-scent of teeth cleaner and soap about him as he slipped his arms about her waist.  
  
"Ready?" she asked.  
  
Ben nodded, smiling, as he looked up at her.  
  
"All right," Onara said as she settled next to him. "Let's see. A story about Obi-Wan."  
  
"Mama?  
  
"Yes, darling?"  
  
"Instead of a story about Obi-Wan, I want you to tell me the story you told him. About the royal twins."  
  
"You really want to hear that one?"  
  
Ben nodded. Onara drew him close, resting her chin gently on his head.  
  
"Once upon a time," she began in a low, soft voice, "on a world far, far away, a beautiful young queen gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. But, what should have been a time of great happiness in the kingdom was, unfortunately, a time of great sorrow for there was a darkness upon the land the queen ruled with her husband, the young king."  
  
Onara told Ben the rest of the story, taking it far beyond what she had told Obi-Wan the night of the blessing ceremony when they had snuck away and went walking in the forest outside her father's manor. But, as with Obi- Wan, she did not finish the story, for Ben was soon asleep and she, unwilling to leave him, also fell asleep, her arms wrapped gently around him.  
  
---------------  
  
It was all Lursan could do not to sneer as he listened to Dalan. The Dynast had arrived at his penthouse an hour ago, just a few minutes after Lursan himself had returned from his meeting with Senator Gillom.  
  
Both drunk and heavily drugged, for the fool had consumed the entire bottle of the drug-laced brandy Lursan had sent to him, Dalan had spilled out his pitiful, pathetic tale of what had happened between him and Onara. It would have been an amusing story, if not for the implications to Lursan and his plans, for Dalan had consumed so much of the drug in the brandy, it had made him both paranoid and delusional.  
  
It was all Lursan could do not to laugh as he had tended to Dalan's head injury, for the Dynast had spouted a load of drug-induced nonsense about Onara and the Jedi being involved in a plot to kill him and take his wealth. It was purely laughable, for even Lursan knew the Jedi had no interest in such things. Kenobi wanted Onara, of that Lursan was certain of, but he knew the Jedi cared nothing about money.  
  
But Lursan had not laughed. After putting away the med-kit, he had listened, growing more and more irritated with each passing moment. Now the idiot was blubbering, his face in his hands, about the look on the face of that brat, and how he not wanted Ben to see him that way. Lursan could care less about Ben's feelings, but he was very concerned that Dalan's actions tonight could prove detrimental to his plans for revenge against Skywalker and his master.  
  
"Did Onara say anything about what she plans to do regarding the dissolution?"  
  
Dalan raised his head from his hands, his dark blue eyes bloodshot and swollen.  
  
"What she plans to do?"  
  
"Yes, yes," Lursan snapped, trying hard, but not succeeding at keeping the impatience and irritation with Dalan out of his voice. "Did she say what she plans to do tomorrow? Will she go to the Ahjane embassy? Contact the Assembly?"  
  
Dalan shrugged his wide shoulders, looking confused. "She didn't say anything about going go the embassy or contacting the Assembly. Just that she wanted to dissolve our marriage. Then, when Ben came into the room, her only concern was to get him away from me," he finished, his voice throbbing with anger and pain.  
  
Lursan crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't like this, not one bit. He had resolved himself to not getting any assistance from Dalan to carry out his plans after he and Onara had made up. Now the fool had set into motion events Lursan could not effectively predict.  
  
He chewed on his lower lip. His instincts, finely honed as a result of having been the leader of the Red Tide, told him that if he wanted to exact his revenge, he needed to do so soon. And the sooner he did, the sooner he could leave this planet for good. As long as Onara was with Dalan the better his chances were of getting to her and her son.  
  
However, once she came under the protection of Kenobi, it would be close to impossible for Lursan to get to either of them. And, despite what Dalan had told him, that Onara had swore she was not leaving him for the Jedi, Lursan could not believe that once she was free, Kenobi would not want to have her and their son with him. Therefore, Lursan decided, he needed to act quickly.  
  
"Dynast," he said, smoothing his voice as if he were running his hand over silk, "I can see it has been a most trying day for you. You can remain here if you like. Take the guest room. Get some sleep and tomorrow, I promise you, you will finally be freed from all this torment."  
  
"But, you don't understand. Onara meant what she said. I could see it in her eyes. And after what I did to her..." Dalan stopped, lifting his hands before him, as if reliving the violence he had enacted upon her.  
  
Lursan walked over and put a comforting hand on Dalan's shoulder.  
  
"Words, my dear Dynast. Mere words. And emotions were running high between you both. Quite understandable, considering the terrible state you were in. No, do not dwell on what was said. Do as I say. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a new day. A chance for you to start again."  
  
Dalan stood shakily. He nodded, his face twisted with a pitiable, desperate hope.  
  
"Yes, tomorrow is another day. Onara was right. I was drunk, I wasn't myself. The things I said, did to her...that wasn't me." Dalan stopped, looking down at the floor. "I don't understand what could have happened, how I could have..." His voice trailed away and he turned away from Lursan and headed towards the guest room.  
  
"Yes, I need to sleep," he went on in a low voice as he stumbled out of the common area. "Then I'll see Onara tomorrow. And we'll talk. And everything will be fine. I'll promise never to drink again. I'll do whatever she wants, whatever she asks. Just so she doesn't leave me."  
  
Dalan entered the guest room, the door sliding shut behind him. Lursan stared at the closed door for a long moment. He almost felt pity for the Dynast. Almost.  
  
He turned and went to his own bedroom. He would not be able to sleep tonight. He never could before a killing. Instead, he laid out on his bed the clothes he would wear tomorrow. An unassuming dark blue suit, casual and elegant, as befitted an Ahjane businessman.  
  
But hidden inside the jacket were a small, but powerful hand-blaster and a dagger. The dagger had belonged to his son. It was an appropriate weapon to use he thought as he stroked the jeweled handle.  
  
After he finished with his clothing, Lursan sat on the floor, his legs crossed, his elbows resting gently on his knees. He would mediate for the rest of the night and prepare himself. Although he had killed many over the years, first as a member of the Red Tide, then as its leader, killed men, women and children, he had never looked upon the taking of any life casually.  
  
There was always a price to be paid for the spilling of blood, and Lursan knew that one day he would be called upon to pay that price. Then he smiled as he slowly closed his eyes. But not today nor tomorrow would payment be demanded from him by the gods of death and vengeance. And certainly not before he had his own revenge on the Jedi Master and his cursed apprentice.  
  
--------------  
  
Bright morning light spilled through the window of Obi-Wan's quarters in the Jedi Temple. He was one of the lucky ones. His quarters had a window. Many of the others did not, located as they were deep within the Temple.  
  
Bare-chested, for he had just come out of the shower, Obi-Wan stood and watched the sunlight as it spilled across the shimmering towers of the Coruscant skyline. He sipped his morning cup of kafe, something he often missed on his missions out in the field.  
  
And something, he now realized, he would miss again, for he was going to speak to Master Yoda about returning to active duty. His injuries had healed and he was eager to be out and about. This sitting around, restful as it might have been, led to an inordinate amount of brooding, and brooding was something Obi-Wan did not like nor felt it was productive to indulge in.  
  
He turned, placing his now empty cup on the table near the window. He went into his bedroom and put on his tunic. The one he had worn yesterday, he took off a chair next to his bed. He was about to place it in the bin for the wash-cycler, but as he did, he noted a scent about it.  
  
Holding it to his face, Obi-Wan slowly closed his eyes. It was Onara's perfume, from when he had embraced her yesterday. His heart started to beat rapidly as he recalled the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her lush lips under his as he had kissed her, the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest.  
  
With a strangled groan, Obi-Wan lowered the tunic, but he could still smell her, the scent of the honeyroses in her perfume like a sweet fog about him, not dulling but sharpening his senses and filling them all--taste, touch, sight, hearing, scent--with nothing but her.  
  
His throat tight, Obi-wan threw the tunic into the bin, then hurriedly put on his belt, clipped his lightsaber onto it and drew on his robe. Yes, he thought, as he strode out of his bedroom. The sooner he was back on a mission, the better. Onara was not his. She would never be his. And, although, he could never forget her, he knew he had to let her go.  
  
Just as he was about to leave his quarters, he noted the sunlight shimmering on the glass pane of Ben's picture that he'd had framed. He stopped and walked over to it, smiling at the childlike drawing of him and Ben and the endearing words his son had wrote, unaware that the man he thought of as his good friend was actually his father.  
  
Obi-Wan reached over and touched the face of the drawing Ben had done of himself, his finger pressing against the glass, but as he did so he felt a coldness rippling through his hand.  
  
Obi-Wan jerked his hand away, suddenly overcome by a feeling of _wrongness_, as if the Force were trying to warn him of something. He focused his awareness, trying to discover the source of the premonition, but his thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of his front door.  
  
With a frustrated sigh, he turned away from Ben's drawing and went to answer the door. Anakin stood outside it, his tall, lanky frame looming in the doorway.  
  
"Morning, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan waved Anakin in. "Morning, Anakin. You're up early."  
  
Anakin grinned as he moved past Obi-Wan. "So are you, Master."  
  
He walked over and sat on the small couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he crossed his dark boots at the ankle. Obi-Wan noted that Anakin had an all too-knowing smirk on his face as he grinned back at his master.  
  
"What?" Obi-Wan blurted out.  
  
"Did you and Onara have a nice _chat_ yesterday?"  
  
Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. "Anakin, really. It doesn't take a Jedi Master to see that you're intimating something most inappropriate."  
  
Anakin's blue eyes widened and he pointed to himself. "Me? Intimate something inappropriate? Never. Not in a thousand years."  
  
"You seem to have forgotten that Onara is a married woman."  
  
Anakin shook his head firmly. "I haven't forgotten that, Master." Then he grinned slyly. "I just hope you didn't forget it."  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He could see Anakin was in one of his mischief- making moods, but he most certainly was not in the mood to deal with it. Especially since what Anakin was hinting about regarding the two of them had almost happened.  
  
When he had held Onara in his arms, then channeled the Force through her, touching her in a way he had never touched her before, he had realized he could very easily give up everything he had dedicated his life to in order to spend the rest of it holding her the way he had held her in that holographic, moon-drenched garden of Suheb Province.  
  
And the ease with which he had felt such a strong and steadfast desire to be with her had alarmed and disturbed him. Then he frowned, oblivious for a moment to Anakin's presence. He was a Jedi Knight and master to a Jedi Padawan. He had known no other way of life and, until he had met Onara four years ago, had not wanted any other kind of life.  
  
But all that had changed with the blessing ceremony he had so reluctantly agreed to participate in on that fateful day back on Ahjane. As a result, he had fallen in love with a woman who was not only beautiful, not only spirited and gentle and loving, but was the only woman he would ever love, would always love and could never have.  
  
"Hey, Master, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."  
  
Obi-Wan shook himself and looked over at his padawan. Anakin's clear blue eyes were brimming with apology as he gazed back at him.  
  
"What?" Obi-Wan said.  
  
Anakin stood and walked over to him. "You were frowning so fiercely, Master, I was afraid I'd made you mad."  
  
"No, I'm not mad, Anakin. It's just that....Onara...I don't want to...I can't..."  
  
"I understand, Master. I'm sorry."  
  
Obi-Wan could hear in Anakin's voice that he wasn't just apologizing for his gaffe in having intimated that Onara and he had done more than talk yesterday. He was also expressing his sympathy regarding Obi-Wan's circumstances, for Anakin knew very well how much Onara and Ben meant to him, and how difficult it was for him to have to remain apart from them.  
  
Grateful for his padawan's apology and for his understanding regarding his feelings for Onara and Ben, but determined to continue on the course he had set for himself, Obi-Wan adjusted his belt and straightened his robe.  
  
"I was just on my way to see Master Yoda. I think it's time you and I get back into the field, don't you?"  
  
"Uh, well, yes, if you say so, Master," Anakin replied, but he sounded less than enthusiastic about the prospect.  
  
Obi-Wan wondered if it had something to do with Senator Amidala. He reached over and put a reassuring hand on Anakin's arm.  
  
"I'll try to see if I can get us missions that don't take us too far from Coruscant."  
  
Anakin shrugged, but Obi-Wan could see he was still troubled.  
  
"What is it, Anakin? What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
"Master, when I went to see the Chancellor the other day he told me that Onara had been receiving death threats."  
  
Fear pulsed through Obi-Wan. "Death threats? But, she never mentioned them to me."  
  
Anakin nodded. "The Chancellor said she probably wouldn't. She's been receiving them for some time, but now that the Ethics Committee is turning its attention on Senator Gillom, the Chancellor fears that this time something could happen to her. Gillom is the very scrapings of the bottom of the barrel, Master. There's no question he's as crooked and rotten as they come, but no one's ever been able to get anything on him."  
  
"I'm well aware of Senator Gillom's activities," Obi-Wan said grimly, "and his uncanny ability to avoid prosecution for them."  
  
Then he recalled that feeling of wrongness he had felt earlier through the Force. He quickly turned, his robe swirling about him and went over to the desk in the corner of the room, Anakin trailing behind him. He activated the desk's comm-channel, punching in the code for Onara's apartment.  
  
Moments passed but no one answered. Obi-Wan felt a chill slithering down his spine. It was very early, so he couldn't imagine that everyone was already gone for the day. He was just about to run out and rush over to the apartment, when Keria's face coalesced on the screen.  
  
"Yes?" she said sleepily.  
  
Her blond hair was mussed and her blue eyes were half-closed, the strap of her sleep gown hanging over one bare shoulder. Then they widened when she saw who it was.  
  
"Oh, Master, Kenobi. Master Anakin," she cried as she quickly rubbed her eyes, pulled up her strap and fussed with her hair.  
  
"Keria, is Onara there? I'd like to speak with her."  
  
"No, I'm sorry, Master Kenobi. She's not."  
  
"She's not?"  
  
Keria shook her head. "She and Ben left. You see, I got home late last night. I was on a date." She blushed and slid her eyes over at Anakin. "Then, this morning, when I got up to use...to use the fresher," and she blushed harder, "she and Ben were already up eating breakfast. That's when she told me they were going out."  
  
"Going out where?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"She didn't say, Master Kenobi."  
  
"Did she go with Dalan?"  
  
"Oh, no. He's not here. Onara said he was over at Lursan's. That he'd gone there last night"  
  
Obi-Wan frowned. It sounded as if Onara and Dalan had had another fight. He wondered with a sickening feeling if it had anything to do with his meeting with her yesterday.  
  
"What about Sinja-Bau? May I speak with her?"  
  
"Just a moment, I'll get her for you."  
  
Keria moved away from the screen. Obi-Wan looked over at Anakin, exchanging a troubled glance with his apprentice. He looked back at the screen as Keria reappeared, a frown on her face.  
  
"She's not here, Master Kenobi. I don't understand it. Everyone's gone."  
  
"Are you sure Onara didn't say where she was going?"  
  
"No, Master Kenobi. At least I don't remember her saying. I was still kind of sleepy, and Onara told me to go back to bed, but I do remember Ben was very excited about wherever they were going."  
  
"All right, Keria. Thank you."  
  
Obi-Wan deactivated the comm-channel. He released a heavy breath. There was no reason to think anything was amiss, but he couldn't help feeling that something was terribly wrong.  
  
Then, just as he was about to suggest to Anakin that the two of them go in search of Onara, for he knew he wouldn't feel right until he had seen her, his comm-channel buzzed. Thinking it was Keria, calling back to say she'd remembered where Onara had gone, Obi-Wan quickly activated it.  
  
But instead of Keria, he was shocked to see Dalan' face on the screen. The Dynast looked terrible. Black hair stubbled his chin and cheeks, he looked like he had slept in his clothes, and his dark blue eyes were wild and bloodshot.  
  
"Master Kenobi," he cried. "You have to help me. It's Onara. I think Lursan is going to kill her!"  
  
To be continued... 


	28. Part TwentyEight

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Eight  
  
-----------------  
  
Dalan groaned, his head pounding, both from the injury he'd suffered when Sinja-Bau had thrown him against the wall and from a monster of a hang- over. Staring blearily out the wide windows of Lursan's penthouse, he wasn't sure if he welcomed or dreaded the morning.  
  
He'd awoken to find himself alone, having found a rather terse holo message from Lursan that he was out taking care of some business and would see him later that day. Disappointed, for he had wanted to talk more with Lursan about what had happened yesterday, Dalan had wandered despondently about the penthouse, wanting to contact Onara, yet fearing to do so. Now that his head was somewhat clearer, he recalled with a great deal of shame what he'd done and said to her.  
  
As a result, he had not showered, shaved, or eaten, but had eventually wandered over to the windows, staring out at the gleaming towers of Coruscant, longing so much for the green hills and soft meadows of his estate back on Ahjane, wondering if he would ever walk through his lovely gardens again with Onara at his side and Ben in his arms.  
  
His reverie, however, was shattered by the buzzing of the comm channel. At first Dalan ignored it, assuming it was someone for Lursan. Then he thought that perhaps it was Lursan calling for him. He turned and went over to the large bloodwood desk. But, when he activated the comm-channel he was startled to see not Lursan, but a green-skinned reptilian alien with four eyes.  
  
"Who are you?" the alien demanded.  
  
"Who are you?" Dalan shot back.  
  
"Are you an associate of Lursan's?"  
  
"We've done some business together."  
  
"I must speak to Lursan. Immediately," the alien insisted.  
  
"He's not here."  
  
"Where is he? It's important I speak to him right away."  
  
"I don't know where he is."  
  
The alien's four eyes blinked rapidly and Dalan could see he was quite agitated.  
  
"Do you know when he'll be back?"  
  
Dalan shrugged. "Sometime later today. He's out taking care of some business."  
  
The alien's four eyes widened. "Taking care of some business?" he repeated slowly.  
  
"Yes. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm a bit out of sorts this morning. If you have a message for Lursan, I'd be happy to deliver it for you."  
  
"And you're definitely an associate of his."  
  
"Yes," Dalan replied, somewhat impatiently. "I told you that before."  
  
The alien leaned forward, his lizard-like face filling the full screen. "All right. Tell Lursan that after careful consideration and extensive discussion with my associates, I wish to withdraw my commission."  
  
"Your commission?"  
  
The alien's four eyes blinked in what Dalan assumed was a nod. "I no longer wish for...for Senator Lenor to be...to be..." The alien paused, his quartet of eyes narrowing as if he were examining Dalan under a holoscope. "Just tell him I've changed my mind about Senator Lenor. That I wish to rescind my...arrangement with him regarding her."  
  
Even through the fog of his hangover, Dalan sensed something dark and insidious about the alien's words, and a terrible realization began to form within him. The death threats Onara had been receiving, Lursan's thinly veiled hostility towards her, coupled with his reassurances last night that all Dalan's problems regarding Onara would soon be at an end suddenly clicked together in his mind like the pieces of a puzzle falling horribly into place.  
  
Perhaps he was still under the influence of the brandy, but a horrific suspicion began to grow in his mind. Taking a chance, he decided to confirm it. He hoped that his somewhat grubby appearance made him look less like a Dynast and more like an assassin.  
  
"You're saying you wish to terminate the contract on her life?" he said in a neutral voice, but his heart was pounding in his chest as he waited the alien's response.  
  
The alien smiled, his sharp yellow teeth glimmering. "Yes, yes, exactly. As I said, after careful consideration and extensive discussion with my colleagues we have decided that Senator Lenor is too inconsequential of a target to risk drawing the attention of the authorities and, most importantly, the Jedi Knights---"  
  
But Dalan no longer heard the alien. His head was spinning, the room suddenly bereft of air as his lungs labored to breathe, and there was a roaring inside his mind that drowned out the rest of the alien's words.  
  
_Onara_  
  
Dalan slammed his hand on the comm-channel board, cutting the connection with the alien. Then he groaned, realizing he should have gotten the _partak's_ name. He quickly shook his head. That didn't matter. Nothing mattered but that he stop Lursan, for Dalan had no doubt now as to what business Lursan was out taking care of.  
  
He clenched his fist, pounding it on the desk, the edge of the comm channel board cutting into the side of his hand, but he took no note of it. How could he have been so blind?  
  
He reached up and raked trembling hands through his hair, forcing himself to think, but his thoughts were still sluggish, his mind still fogged. He had to contact Onara. Warn her of the danger. He quickly activated the comm- channel, but there were no answer at the apartment.  
  
Fear, thick and hot, filled his throat. Had Lursan already been there? Was she already dead? And what about Ben? Dalan moaned in frustration at his inability to think clearly, wishing he weren't so hung over, wishing he'd not drank that bottle of brandy, wishing he'd not been so jealous of Obi- Wan.  
  
His eyes widened. Obi-Wan! He would save Onara. He'd done it once before. Dalan didn't much understand this Force the Jedi were allies with, even after having witnessed Ben manipulate it. It all seemed like a lot of smoke and mirrors to him, but he could not deny that the Jedi were renowned throughout the galaxy for their use of it. If anyone could save Onara, it would be Obi-Wan. Suddenly, none of his petty jealousy regarding the Jedi Knight mattered. All that mattered was Onara and Ben's safety.  
  
He quickly activated the comm-channel and contacted the Jedi Temple.  
  
-----------  
  
"Master Kenobi," Dalan cried. "You have to help me. It's Onara. I think Lursan is going to kill her!"  
  
Obi-Wan struggled to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest at Dalan's words. He glanced over at Anakin. His padawan's blue eyes were blazing. He turned back to Dalan.  
  
"Lursan?"  
  
"Yes, he's going to kill her. You must save her!"  
  
"Calm down, Dynast Lenor," Obi-Wan said, although he himself was anything but calm. "Tell me everything."  
  
He listened with growing horror as Dalan told him what had just happened. When he described the being he had spoken with, Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin.  
  
"Senator Gillom," his apprentice said in a grim voice, his eyes narrowing.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, agreeing. He turned back to the comm screen.  
  
"Please, Master Kenobi," the Dynast beseeched him, his bloodshot eyes filled with fear. "You must go to the apartment now. Before it's too late. Protect her. Save her."  
  
"Onara isn't at the apartment," Obi-Wan said in a heavy voice.  
  
"She's not?"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Keria said she and Ben left early this morning. She doesn't know where they went."  
  
"Ben?" Fear flooded Dalan's face.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. Then he looked hard at Dalan. "Are you all right, Dynast? Have you been harmed?"  
  
Dalan's face twisted, but with surprise that Obi-Wan was concerned about him.  
  
"Me? Yes, yes, I'm fine."  
  
But Obi-Wan noted him reaching around and gingerly touching the back of his head.  
  
"Can you get back to your apartment, or shall I send someone over to escort you?"  
  
"No, no. I can make it back all right."  
  
"Good. I suggest you leave immediately. Before Lursan comes back. He may harm you if he suspects you know what's he really about. Go back to your apartment in case Onara and Ben return. And try not to worry. Anakin and I will find them."  
  
Dalan nodded wearily. Then he leaned towards the comm screen.  
  
"Master Kenobi?"  
  
"Yes, Dynast?"  
  
"When you see Onara, tell her...tell her I won't stand in her way. I won't contest the dissolution. She can have Ben, she can have anything she wants. Even you. Just save her, Master Kenobi. Please, save her."  
  
Obi-Wan had no idea what Dalan was talking about, but after he had gotten Dalan's assurance he would leave Lursan's penthouse immediately, Obi-Wan promised he would do as the Dynast requested and tell Onara what he'd said. Once the connection was broken, Obi-Wan rose from the desk and looked over at Anakin.  
  
"We have to find them, Anakin," he said, his voice tight, the fear of losing Onara and Ben like a vise around his throat.  
  
Anakin reached over and put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "We will, Master, don't worry."  
  
The two men turned and hurriedly left Obi-Wan's quarters.  
  
-----------  
  
"I'm sorry, Madame, but we do not open for another hour."  
  
Onara sighed, looking away from the floppy-eared Bimm who was manning the ticket booth and down at Ben who gazed up at her with a disappointed expression, his hand in hers. When she had impulsively decided, upon awakening, to take Ben to the amusement complex at Monument Plaza in order to keep his mind off yesterday's events, she had assumed that the complex was open twenty-four hours. One of the senators who had an office near hers had remarked on its popularity and had given Onara the impression it was open at all hours.  
  
She looked around. The complex was located just to the side of Monument Plaza, the only place on Coruscant where visitors could actually touch bare rock, as it was once a mountaintop. Although there were quite a few people walking about, she and Ben were the only ones standing in front of the entrance to the amusement complex.  
  
She looked back at the Bimm. "Please, can't you let us in a little early? It took us some time to get here. I thought you would be open by now."  
  
The Bimm's ears wiggled as he stared over at her. "Well, I suppose it won't do no harm." He leaned over and looked down at Ben, who gave him a wide smile. "And the young one here seems eager to get inside."  
  
"I am, sir," Ben said, his blue-gray eyes shining. "Very eager."  
  
"Fine, fine, go on in," the Bimm said, his wide lips stretched in a grin. "You two will be the only ones in there, I'm afraid." Then he winked at Ben. "I'm hope you aren't afraid of hobble-gobbles."  
  
"Hobble-gobbles?" Ben asked, as Onara passed over her credit chit.  
  
"Yes indeed, little master," the Bimm said as he ran the chit through his terminal and handed it back to Onara. "They say that when no one is around, the hobble-gobbles like to come out and ride on the carousel or play the holo-games or slide down the sloop-tubes."  
  
"Really?" Ben said. "What do they look like?"  
  
"Can't rightly say," the Bimm replied as he released the gate and waved Onara and Ben inside, "having never seen one myself, but those that have seem 'em say they have curly pink tails with bells on the ends of 'em and big green eyes that sparkle like fireworks."  
  
"Wow! I hope I see one."  
  
"Well, if you do, don't scare 'em off. Just walk on past like you're just minding your own business. You don't bother them, they don't bother you."  
  
"All right. I'll remember," Ben said as he waved goodbye to the Bimm.  
  
Onara shook her head, a small smile crinkling her lips. She thanked the Bimm attendant for allowing them in and, with Ben in hand, entered the complex.  
  
-----------  
  
Lursan watched as Onara and Ben went inside the amusement complex. He had been waiting and watching outside their apartment for hours. He had seen Sinja-Bau leave just before dawn, but had ignored the ex-Jedi. Then he had not believed his luck when, not long after, Onara had emerged from the apartment with Ben, the two of them boarding an air taxi. It had not been difficult for Lursan to follow them in the speeder he had rented.  
  
Upon arriving at Monument Plaza, he had parked the speeder and followed them, unseen, to the amusement complex and had watched as both had entered it. Now, as he approached the entrance to the complex, he wondered how much longer his luck was hold.  
  
"May I help you?" the Bimm asked once Lursan had stopped in front of him.  
  
"I want to go inside."  
  
The Bimm sighed and rolled his large, black eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, but we won't be opening for another hour."  
  
Lursan gestured to where Onara and Ben had disappeared through the entrance. "You let them enter."  
  
"Yes, that is true. But I was making an exception there, you see, for the little one. But that's the nature of an exception, you understand. You can make only one."  
  
"I see," Lursan said.  
  
He glanced around. No one was near them. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his dagger. Faster than the intake of a quick, sharp breath, he leaned over and stabbed the Bimm in the chest. The Bimm's eyes widened, his throat already gurgling with a death rattle.  
  
Jerking the dagger out, Lursan wiped it on the Bimm's bright yellow vest, right over the perky little Monument Plaza Amusement Complex logo, and returned it to its sheath inside his jacket.  
  
Reaching over, he pressed the control that would release the gate. He walked through and over to where the Bimm was slumped over the control center. He tore off a piece of the Bimm's shirt and used it to wipe the blood from the control center. He then stuffed the bloodied rag in the Bimm's mouth.  
  
Looking around, he noted a storage shed near the ticket booth. Quickly dragging the Bimm's lifeless body over to it, he opened it, stuffed him inside and closed it. He looked around. No one had seen him. Adjusting his jacket and making sure there were no blood stains on it, Lursan entered the amusement complex.  
  
To be continued... 


	29. Part TwentyNine

Stars in the Darkness - Part Twenty-Nine  
  
-----------------  
  
"Focus, Anakin. Use the Force. Let it calm you. If you are not calm, you may miss something."  
  
Anakin shot a quick frustrated look at Obi-Wan from across the terminal station. The two were inside one of the situation rooms located at the base of the central spire near the Temple's Holomap Room. From here, Jedi were able to use computer stations to access the Judicial Department's SSN, the Safety and Surveillance Network. The SSN was linked to thousands of databases on Coruscant.  
  
Anakin, upon leaving Obi-Wan's quarters, had wanted to rush out of the Temple, lightsaber in hand, to search for Onara and Ben. And, considering his own sense of growing dread, so had Obi-Wan. But he had forced himself to remain calm and to think instead of just feel.  
  
Coruscant was a city-wide planet and there were thousands upon thousands of places Onara and Ben could have gone to. If Obi-Wan and Anakin hoped to find them before Lursan got to them, they couldn't just hop in a speeder, racing around on the slim hope they'd chance across them.  
  
Therefore, Obi-Wan had reined in Anakin's typically impulsive need for action and taken him to the situation room. Once there, he had directed his padawan to search the SSN for flight records of all air-taxi traffic within the vicinity of Onara's apartment while Obi-Wan concentrated on the banking and credit database. He hoped to find evidence Onara had used her credit chit that morning.  
  
"Master, if Onara and Ben took an air-bus, looking at air-taxi transactions isn't going to help us find them."  
  
Obi-Wan kept his eyes on the screen, his gaze darting across the scrolling streams of data.  
  
"I'm well aware of that, Anakin. Just keep looking."  
  
Anakin released an exasperated breath, but continued to look through the databases. As Obi-Wan scanned the credit chit and bank transactions, he drew in a quick, sharp breath.  
  
He paused the flow of data across the screen and closed his eyes. Another wave of foreboding washed over him, thicker and darker than what he'd felt earlier that morning. And in his mind's eye he saw Onara and Ben, but there was a shadow surrounding them. Pain, sharp and thin as a stiletto, pierced his heart.  
  
_Focus, Relax, let the Force flow through you and guide you._  
  
Obi-Wan softly repeated the mantra to himself. Once he was sufficiently calm again, he opened his eyes and went back to scanning the financial transactions, all the while aware time was passing and the danger surrounding his beloveds was growing.  
  
Then, his heart lurching in his chest, Obi-Wan saw a record showing Onara had used her credit chit twice that morning. Once was for passage on an air- taxi and the second time was for two tickets to the...  
  
"Monument Plaza Amusement Complex," Anakin cried from across the terminal, his blue eyes blazing with triumph. "An air-taxi took them there this morning, Master."  
  
"Yes, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, rising swiftly from the terminal.  
  
He ran through the door of the situation room, Anakin behind him.  
  
-------------  
  
"I'm sorry, Master Kenobi, but if you don't have the proper authorization I can't let you have a speeder."  
  
Obi-Wan exchanged a frustrated glance with Anakin. After leaving the situation room, they had raced to the Temple's speeder port. Speeders were housed there for use, but typically, unless it was an emergency, Jedi were encouraged to use air-taxis or public transport to get around Coruscant. Recent budgetary cuts, enacted by the Senate over the last ten years, had cut deeply into the Temple's resources. Therefore, the number of speeders available were limited and proper authorization from the Jedi Council was required to use one.  
  
Obi-Wan did not have the desire nor the time to go through the Council, or to wait for an air-taxi or use public transport. Monument Plaza was on the other side of Coruscant. He and Anakin needed to get there and they needed to get there fast.  
  
He looked back at the speeder port manager. He was a rotund human male with a bulbous nose and watery green eyes. He was not a Jedi, as the Order usually hired non-Jedi to staff and supervise support services such as these.  
  
Glancing uneasily over at Anakin, who was waiting, and most impatiently for his body was visibly quivering with agitation, Obi-Wan surreptitiously waved his fingers at the port manager, knowing he was violating any number of Jedi rules and protocols.  
  
"You don't need to see our authorization," he said.  
  
The manager blinked, then nodded. "I don't need to see your authorization."  
  
"We can take any speeder we want," Obi-Wan went on.  
  
"You can take any speeder you want," the manager repeated. Then he turned and went back into his office.  
  
Obi-Wan ran to a nearby speeder, Anakin loping at his side.  
  
"Don't say a word, Anakin," Obi-Wan warned as they approached a gold and black speeder.  
  
"I wasn't going to, Master. Not a word," but Obi-Wan could hear a hint of approval in Anakin's voice.  
  
Obi-Wan didn't often bend the rules, but he never failed to notice Anakin seemed to take great delight in his having done so. He opened the door of the passenger seat, then noted Anakin was staring at him.  
  
"You drive, Anakin."  
  
Anakin looked at him for a moment, then nodded, leaping into the driver's seat. Obi-Wan had often chided Anakin for his reckless driving, but he was well aware his padawan was the superior pilot and he was relying on Anakin's skill to get them to Monument Plaza in record time.  
  
The disturbance in the Force was now a high-pitched scream, and it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep himself from crying out in anger and despair. They were in danger, his beloveds. He could feel it.  
  
Anakin revved up the speeder and, activating its lifts, drove it towards the port doors. They swung open, the bright sunlight and the noise and clamor that was daytime Coruscant, spilling over them.  
  
"Punch it, Anakin."  
  
Anakin did so, his face grim and determined, and the speeder flew up into the air, streaking among the metal canyons and chasms.  
  
-----------  
  
"Can I ride again, Mama?"  
  
Onara smiled at Ben from where she was sitting on a bench across from the carousel. He was riding on the back of a plasteek guarlara, one of a number of creatures from across the galaxy that were on the huge carousel. The guarlara was a regal, equine-like creature, native to Naboo. Ben had the reins in his hands and was flapping them as if trying to get the ebony- colored guarlara to move.  
  
Onara and Ben hadn't been inside the amusement complex long before coming across the carousel. The Bimm had been right. They were the only ones inside, except for a few maintenance droids. Upon seeing the carousel, Ben, his hand pulling Onara along, had run over to it and quickly climbed up onto the guarlara.  
  
Once Onara was certain he was secure on it, she had stepped away and instructed the carousel to start turning. Music, lively and bright had played, and Ben had laughed joyously as the guarlara had rose and fell on the carousel as it turned around.  
  
Onara got up from the bench and walked over. She gently tousled Ben's dark hair and stroked his somewhat flushed cheek, which she knew was a result of his excitement. She had hoped this excursion to the amusement complex would take his mind off what happened last night with Dalan, and it seemed to have worked. Ben hadn't stopped smiling since they'd left the apartment that morning.  
  
"All right, darling, you can ride one more time, but there's lots more to see. Why don't we try some of the other attractions before others arrive."  
  
"All right, Mama."  
  
Onara stepped away and instructed the carousel to begin turning again. Then she went back to the bench and sat down. Feeling a slight chill, she crossed her arms over her chest. Then she sighed and, although her eyes were on Ben as he rode around the carousel, her thoughts were elsewhere.  
  
Awakening before dawn, her arms around Ben, Onara had gently moved away from him and left his room. As she walked through the darkened apartment, she saw Keria's velvet wrap where she had thrown it across the couch. Onara smiled and hoped she'd had a good time on her date. She approached her bedroom, then noted there was a light on in the kitchen.  
  
Entering it, she saw Sinja-Bau sitting at the table, a cup of tea between her hands. The ex-Jedi looked up and smiled at Onara.  
  
"Good morning, Onara."  
  
"Good morning, Sinja-Bau," she replied as she walked over and sat at the table. Then she saw, with a sinking heart, shadows under the woman's blue- green eyes.  
  
"Did you not sleep well?" she asked softly.  
  
Sinja-Bau looked down at her tea cup. "No, I'm afraid not."  
  
Onara reached over and put her hand over Sinja-Bau's, squeezing it gently.  
  
"Please, don't be upset about what happened with Dalan. Once he's sobered up, he'll realize you were only trying to protect me."  
  
Sinja-Bau shook her head. "No, you don't understand, Onara. It's not about Dalan. It's about me."  
  
"You? I don't understand."  
  
"When I threw Dalan against the wall, I used the dark side of the Force."  
  
"The dark side?"  
  
Onara was not as knowledgeable about the Force as she probably should have been, being the mother of a Force sensitive child, but she knew enough about it to know that for a Jedi to use the dark side of the Force was very dangerous. Obi-Wan had called upon it when he had brought her consciousness back from the abyss, and he had nearly been expelled from the Jedi Order as a result. And there also was the psychological and spiritual costs.  
  
Sinja-Bau had once told Onara stories of Jedi who had succumbed to the dark side, and of the terrible evil and horror they had inflicted, not only up others, but upon themselves. Onara inwardly shuddered at the thought of this woman, who was the closet thing she had to a mother, falling victim to such a fate.  
  
She squeezed Sinja-Bau's hand again. "But, you're all right now. It was only a momentary thing."  
  
"Yes, a momentary thing, but what's disturbing was how easily and quickly I was able to call upon the dark side. We Jedi are trained from childhood on how to resist its lure, for the dark side is a easy and seductive path, but never have I felt its power so strongly. The dark side is growing, Onara, I can feel it."  
  
"What will you do?"  
  
"I must go see Master Yoda. I need his guidance, and I must tell him what happened."  
  
"But, you're no longer a member of the Order. They won't punish you for it, will they?"  
  
"They have no jurisdiction over me, but, perhaps," and Sinja-Bau paused, looking somberly over at Onara, "that is something I should look into remedying."  
  
Onara felt a twinge of pain, fully aware of what Sinja-Bau was intimating, and suddenly afraid of losing her.  
  
"Sinja-Bau, you're like a mother to me, as well as a dear companion. And you know how much you mean to Ben, but, whatever decision you make, know I will support you fully in it."  
  
Sinja-Bau covered Onara's hand with her other one. "My dear, sweet Onara, I have not regretted one moment I've spent in your household. I will never have children, but I look upon you as my daughter and Ben as my grandchild. I love you both so much."  
  
Sinja-Bau stopped, her voice choking. Onara rose from the table, walked around it and put her arms around the older woman, kissing her cheek.  
  
"Go and see Master Yoda. Put your heart at rest. And know whatever you decide, Ben and I will always love you and wish you well."  
  
Sinja-Bau had thanked Onara and, soon after, left for the Jedi Temple. Onara had showered and changed and then waited for Ben to wake up, which he did an hour later. The two had breakfasted, greeting a sleepy Keria who had returned to bed, and then left the apartment.  
  
Now, as Ben continued to ride the carousel, Onara wondered how Sinja-Bau's meeting with Master Yoda was going. She hoped the ex-Jedi found the answers and reassurance she seemed to need so desperately. Then her reverie was broken by Ben's voice.  
  
"Hi, Master Lursan."  
  
Onara looked over at Ben. He was waving in her direction, but his gaze was behind her. She turned around and was shocked to see Lursan walking towards them.  
  
She slowly rose from the bench, trepidation stealing over her as Lursan came closer. The Ahjane businessman was smiling, but Onara felt a chill slither down her spine when she saw his gray eyes. They reminded her of the sea just before a storm hit.  
  
"Lady Lenor," Lursan said as he stopped in front of her. Then his gaze slid over to Ben who was still riding around on the carousel. "And young Master Lenor. Or should I say Kenobi." And he looked back at Onara, his smile widening, but his eyes growing colder.  
  
"Lursan," Onara said, but her heart was beating so fast she could hardly speak. She was suddenly afraid, terribly afraid, though she did not yet know why. "What are you doing here? Is Dalan with you?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid not. I left him at my penthouse. He was in quite a state when he arrived last night. I gather you and he did not share a pleasant evening yesterday."  
  
"No, we did not."  
  
Onara backed a step away from Lursan, but he moved closer to her.  
  
"A pity," he remarked, but Onara heard no pity in his voice. "He loves you so much. It's a shame you could not remain faithful to him."  
  
"I have remained faithful to him. Is that why you're here? To talk about my marriage to Dalan?"  
  
"No, that is not why I'm here," Lursan said, following Onara as she, unconsciously, moved closer to the carousel, which she could hear was beginning to slow down.  
  
"Then, I don't understand. What do you want?"  
  
"What do I want?" Lursan repeated.  
  
His eyes slid over to where Ben was sitting on the guarlara, smiling at them both as the carousel spun slower and slower.  
  
Onara's breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding, for the look Lursan gave Ben was nothing short of predatory. He looked back at her, his eyes glittering.  
  
"Were you aware, Lady Lenor, that I knew your grandmother, the Lady Tsara?"  
  
"My grandmother?"  
  
"She hired me to kidnap your son."  
  
Now Onara felt fear skittering through her chest with steel claws. "She hired you? You're...you're Red Tide?"  
  
Lursan nodded. "Yes. I was its leader. I sent my son and a number of my men to your father's manor at the behest of your grandmother to kidnap your son so she could raise him to be some kind of overlord of Ahjane. But, as you well know, we were not successful. And my son, my only child, died that night, killed by the apprentice of your lover. As a result, my wife died soon after from grief."  
  
"But...but..." Onara stammered, too overwhelmed to speak, aware only of a dawning horror.  
  
"Yes, you understand now, don't you, my lady," Lursan said smiling, his eyes glimmering with hate. "I have come for my blood payment."  
  
He looked over at the carousel, which had stopped turning. Ben was still sitting on the guarlara, but Onara saw he was now trying to get off it to come over to them.  
  
"Ben!" she screamed, grabbing Lursan's arm. "Ben, run! Run!"  
  
Ben's head snapped up at her cry, his blue-gray eyes widening. Lursan was thrown slightly off balance as Onara pulled at him, but he quickly recovered. He struck her savagely across the face, but she did not let go of his arm.  
  
"Run, Ben, run!" she screamed, her face blooming with pain, blood streaming down the side of her mouth  
  
"Mama!"  
  
Ben slid off the guarlara, and Onara saw with horror he was running towards them.  
  
"No, Ben, no, Run! Run away!"  
  
Lursan hit Onara again, hard enough she fell to the floor. But she leapt up and, striking out with her hand, punched him hard in the chest. Lursan grunted, surprise on his face. Onara attacked him again, using everything she had learned from Padmé and her handmaidens, but she knew it was not enough. Certainly not against the leader of the Red Tide. But with hope, she thought desperately, as she struck out at Lursan again, she could give Ben time enough to get away.  
  
Lursan grabbed her arms and, raising his leg, kneed her hard in the stomach. Onara doubled over, nearly retching. She saw Ben out of the corner of her eye. Hope bloomed in her chest. He was running away from them now, down the corridor to the left.  
  
Lursan, noting the fleeing Ben, snarled and made to go after him, but Onara, with a strength she had not known she possessed, threw herself at him, fighting with all the power and might of a boar-wolf protecting its young.  
  
Then, suddenly, as she struggled with Lursan, pain unlike anything she had ever felt in her life exploded along her side. She staggered, heat and cold surging through her veins. Then she felt a wetness seeping down her side.  
  
She glanced down, shocked to see blood flowing down her tunic. She raised her head and looked over at Lursan. He held a dagger in his hand. Blood was on it. Her blood.  
  
Onara sank to her knees, the pain throbbing, pulsing inside her, and her life's blood with it. As she trembled uncontrollably, a darkness stealing over her mind, dimming both sight and sound, she wailed, the maddened howl of all parents down the ages who had failed to protect their young. Her baby was alone, unprotected, with a cold-blooded killer in pursuit of him.  
  
She fell heavily to her side, the blood streaming out of her and onto the floor.  
  
I'm dying, she thought, but with the last of her strength, a strength born of anguish and a desperate hope her son would survive, Onara drew in just enough breath to call out one final time as she watched Lursan run after Ben.  
  
"Run, Ben. Oh, run, darling, run!"  
  
To be continued.... 


	30. Part Thirty

Thanks, again, everyone, for your kind words. I was sick past few days so sorry about delay in posting. I should say there's a very good chance there's going to be a sequel to this story, so it will be an honest to goodness trilogy! :)  
  
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Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty  
  
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Even before Anakin landed the speeder, Obi-Wan was already out of it. He unclipped his lightsaber and raced towards the entrance of the amusement complex, Anakin close behind. A small crowd was standing in front of the closed gates, murmuring among themselves. A tall, light-haired man, who held the hand of a little girl, turned as the Jedi approached.  
  
"What's going on?" Obi-Wan asked, ignoring those among the crowd who pointed and whispered at him and Anakin.  
  
The man gestured towards the entrance, only a raised eyebrow showing his surprise at the appearance of two Jedi.  
  
"It's not open. It's well past the time it was supposed to open and there's no sign of the attendant."  
  
"Poppy, are the Jedi going to let us in?" the little girl asked.  
  
Obi-Wan looked down at her, his heart lurching in his chest, for the child was about the same age as Ben.  
  
"I don't know, honey," the man replied. "I would think the Jedi had better things to do."  
  
Obi-Wan was surprised to hear a note of disapproval in the man's voice. He turned back to the gate. For a moment, he wondered if perhaps he and Anakin were wrong and Onara had not come here. But her credit chit clearly showed she had purchased two tickets this morning. Perhaps the attendant had let her and Ben in early. But, in that case, where was the attendant? He looked over as Anakin went up to the gate and, grabbing it, tried to open it, shaking it fiercely.  
  
"It's locked, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan gestured towards the crowd. "Please, all of you step back."  
  
He ignited his lightsaber. Anakin immediately followed suit. They quickly cut through the gate with their blades. Just before moving through it, Obi- Wan turned back to the crowd, most of whom were staring wide-eyed at him.  
  
"Please, leave immediately. We have reason to suspect a criminal is loose on the premises."  
  
"A criminal?" the father gasped, instinctively pulling his little girl away from the complex.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, then turned and followed Anakin, who was already running through the main entrance. As they ran down a hallway that featured displays advertising the different attractions within the complex, Obi-Wan forced himself to focus his thoughts. The complex was huge, so Onara and Ben could be anywhere. His only hope in finding them was to use the Force.  
  
Turning a corner that lead into a large atrium, Obi-Wan stopped. Anakin had run on ahead, but also stopped when he saw his master was no longer behind him. Obi-Wan noted the frustration on his padawan's face, but, once again, the Jedi Knight knew that, in spite of his and Anakin's overriding need to find Onara and Ben as quickly as possible, they had to remain Jedi.  
  
He closed his eyes and reached out with the Force. _Anger, fear, anguish_. The sensations nearly knocked him over. He whirled about and ran down a corridor to his right, Anakin beside him. Turning a corner, the first thing Obi-Wan saw was a large carousel. The second thing he saw nearly made him go mad with despair.  
  
Onara lay on the floor in a pool of blood.  
  
"NO!" Obi-Wan shouted, the pain in his chest like a boulder pressing on his heart as he ran to her. He quickly knelt next to her body. "No, please, no, by the Ancients. Onara, Onara."  
  
Anakin knelt on the other side of her, his blue eyes burning, his face a rigid mask of rage as he stared down at her. Her face was badly bruised and there were also bruises on her arms and about her neck. With a trembling hand, Obi-Wan reached over and placed his fingers on her throat. Her skin was cool under his fingertips. He pressed down and felt a pulse, weak, feeble, but a pulse. A strangled sob tore from his throat.  
  
"She's alive," he cried, looking over at Anakin, his eyes welling with tears. "But she's in shock."  
  
Anakin quickly unhooked a pouch on his belt and pulled out an emergency bacta bandage, tearing open the plastic packaging. He grabbed Onara's tunic where it had been slashed by whatever weapon had been used to stab her and ripped it apart. Applying the bandage to her wound, he pressed down on it. Obi-Wan took off his robe and wrapped it around her, almost blinded by his tears and growing rage.  
  
"She's lost a lot of blood, Master," Anakin said in a grim voice. "But I've stopped the bleeding." Then he glared over at Obi-Wan. "Why would Lursan beat her like this?"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head as he gently adjusted the robe around Onara. "She fought him, Anakin," his voice breaking as he imagined Lursan's hands on her, beating her, striking her, as she struggled frantically with him to protect her child. "She fought him to keep him away from Ben. Then the coward stabbed her," Obi-Wan finished, his voice trembling with grief and anger as he cupped Onara's face.  
  
"Master, stay with Onara. I'll look for Ben."  
  
Obi-Wan's head snapped up. He saw worry in Anakin's eyes. But, he realized, it wasn't just Ben his padawan was worried about. He knew Anakin could sense his growing rage through the Force.  
  
Swallowing heavily, Obi-Wan forced himself to calm down, calling upon all his years of training as a Jedi, but it was difficult. Onara's face was so still and pale within the dark cloud of her hair, and her paleness made the bluish-black bruises on her face even more blasphemous. To Obi-Wan, it looked as if she had already passed over.  
  
"No, Anakin. I'll look for Ben. Watch over Onara." He reached over and gripped Anakin's arm. "Just as you did when I went in search of Sinja-Bau. Don't worry. I'll be fine. Contact the authorities and the Jedi Temple. Have them send med-pods for emergency transport. Have them..." Obi-Wan stopped and closed his eyes for a moment, his throat working, a dizzying sense of despair washing through him. "Have them send two. Just in case."  
  
Anakin stared at Obi-Wan for a moment, horror dimming his eyes. Then he nodded, his expression bleak. Obi-Wan reached over and gently ran his fingers over Onara's cheek, caressing her hair, his throat so tight he feared he would never speak again.  
  
"My love, my sweet love," he whispered hoarsely. "I'll find him. I'll find him."  
  
Then he stood, aware that some of Onara's blood was on his pants and tunic. Gripping his lightsaber, he opened himself up to the Force and reached out with it. He soon sensed Ben, but he was afraid. Obi-Wan could almost feel the rapid beating of his heart. Anger swelled in him, a burning rage at the one who was making his son so afraid, but again Obi-Wan willed his anger down.  
  
_Focus, Relax, let the Force flow through you and guide you._  
  
Obi-Wan clung desperately to those words, like a man drowning in a sea of darkness, as he raced down the corridor that curved to the left.  
  
--------------------- ---------------------  
  
Ben ran. He ran as fast as his legs and lungs could carry him. He didn't know where he was running to, but he was doing as his mother had bade him. He was running. He ran past exhibits and games and rides, but all of them were a blur to him, because all he could see was Lursan hurting his mother. And his mother screaming for Ben to run.  
  
He didn't understand why Lursan would hurt his mother or would want to hurt him. He was Papa's friend, wasn't he? Then tears stung Ben's eyes. He should have stayed and helped his mother. That's what a real Jedi Knight would have done. His mother was always calling him her little Jedi Knight. But he wasn't a real Jedi. He didn't even have a lightsaber. And he was, after all, only a little boy.  
  
Ben suddenly stopped, his shoes skidding on the floor. He was at the end of the corridor. Before him yawned a huge entrance and above it in large gold letters were the words _Hall of Worlds_. He was about to turn around and go back down the corridor, but he heard a sound that made his heart beat even faster than it was already beating. It was the sound of someone running down the hall towards him.  
  
At first, Ben hoped it was his mother, but he could tell by the hard, heavy footsteps that it was someone larger. Lursan. Without a thought, Ben ran through the entrance and into the _Hall of Worlds_.  
  
It was dark inside and it took a moment for Ben's eyes to adjust to the shadows. He could barely make out what looked like a number of huge panoramas inside the hall. To his left was an arctic wasteland and a huge, furry animal with large teeth and fearsome claws loomed over a horned animal with powerful back legs, but smaller forelegs. To his right was a jungle landscape, with huge white trees with knobby roots rising out of a thick swamp.  
  
Ben looked around wildly, for he could hear Lursan getting closer. Then he saw, down the hall to his right, a forest of tall trees with greenish-dark leaves. And nestled within the branches of those trees were what looked like thatched roof-huts. Ben ran to the nearest tree and climbed it. Yes, it was a hut and, looking in, Ben was surprised to see furry creatures with large black eyes, no taller than he was, dressed in tawny-colored or black hoods and carrying bows and arrows. They were only exhibits, but the creatures looked quite lifelike.  
  
Ben scooted in among them, crawling towards the darkest part of the hut. Then he drew his knees up to his chest and hugged himself tight. When he heard Lursan's footsteps running into the hall, then slowing down, Ben closed his eyes. He tried to remember everything Sinja-Bau had taught him about using the Force, but he was so scared, it all flew out of his mind.  
  
All he could think of was how much he wished he were home with Mama and Papa, how much he wished he were a real Jedi, so he could fight Lursan instead of just hide from him, and how much he wished he were like Obi-Wan.  
  
Obi-Wan. Ben closed his eyes tighter. If only the Jedi were here. He would take care of Lursan. And then Ben would be safe, and so would his mother. I wish Obi-Wan were here, Ben whispered under his breath, rocking himself the way his mother would rock when he'd woken up from a nightmare. And, out of desperation, or a child's innocent hope, he called out to the Jedi Knight in his mind, unaware he was using the Force to do so.  
  
---------------------  
  
Lursan cursed softly as he walked into the darkened hall. There was no doubt the boy had run in here. There was nowhere else he could have gone. But the hall was huge and Lursan counted at least a dozen large panoramas Ben could be hiding in. He'd just have to check them each one by one. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out the dagger. No use checking the arctic exhibit for there was no place on that barren wasteland where even a boy as small as Ben could hide.  
  
Lursan moved to the right, making his way through the jungle exhibit. Then he heard something from outside the hall. It was the sound of someone running down the corridor. Lursan cursed again. It couldn't be Onara. She should have bled to death by now. He wasn't sure what time the complex opened, but he was certain he still had enough time to finish off the boy before others arrived. Perhaps it was one of the complex's attendants.  
  
Slipping the dagger back into its sheath, Lursan pulled out his blaster. He climbed one of the larger of the jungle trees and nestled himself along one of its thicker branches. He was well-hidden by the thick fronds and leaves, but had a clear view of the floor. He saw an approaching shadow as whomever it was ran up to the entrance to the hall. Then the person stopped.  
  
Lursan raised an eyebrow as he sighted the blaster. Cautious, whoever it was. Then, as the person entered the hall and Lursan saw who it was, he was so startled he almost dropped the blaster. It was the Jedi, Onara's lover. Obi-Wan. What was he doing here? No matter, Lursan thought, aiming the blaster at Obi-Wan's head. He was just about to pull the trigger when a thought occurred to him.  
  
This was not the revenge he craved. He wanted the Jedi to live, to suffer, just as Lursan had suffered, each and every day since his son and wife's deaths. And there was a way. The Jedi was here and so was the boy. Once again, the instincts Lursan had honed over decades as leader of the Red Tide kicked in. Patience, he told himself. Patience.  
  
-----------------  
  
Obi-Wan walked slowly into the hall. He held his lightsaber, but he had not ignited it. Ben was in here, somewhere. But, Obi-Wan reminded himself, so, more than likely, was Lursan. He moved further inside, then he suddenly felt something in his mind. It wasn't so much a voice, as it was a sensation, like someone grabbing your arm to get your attention. It was Ben, calling to Obi-Wan through the Force.  
  
"Ben?" he called out.  
  
--------------  
  
Ben's eyes snapped open. He hadn't imagined that voice. He had been thinking so hard about Obi-Wan that, for a moment, he was sure it had to be some kind of dream. But there was no doubt the voice had come from outside the hut. Ben crawled towards the entrance and looked out. Near the front of the hall he saw a figure. It was in shadow, but he knew who it was. A huge smile split his face and, shaking with relief and excitement, he climbed down the tree and ran towards Obi-Wan  
  
----------------  
  
Obi-Wan felt Ben even before he saw him. Happiness flooded his body as he watched his son running towards him, alive and unhurt.  
  
"Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan" Ben cried as he ran, his eyes shining.  
  
Then, suddenly, like a clap of thunder, Obi-Wan felt the Force warning him. He looked around, unable to get a fix on where the danger was, but it was close. Ben was still running towards him. Where was Lursan? Where was he?  
  
"Ben, wait," Obi-Wan cried as he ran towards him.  
  
---------------  
  
Lursan, from his perch within the tree, watched as Ben ran across the floor towards Obi-Wan. He quickly swung the blaster away from the Jedi and aimed it at Ben. Then, for a moment, as he saw the happiness on the boy's face, Lursan was reminded of his own son when he was Ben's age. He would run to Lursan in exactly the same way whenever Lursan would come home after having been away on a Red Tide assignment. The same joyous cry, the same shining eyes.  
  
Then he remembered his son was dead. Killed by that apprentice of the Jedi who, Lursan saw, was turning his head wildly about as if he were searching for Lursan, probably, finally, aware of what was about to happen. Lursan looked back at Ben. Obi-Wan was now running towards him, shouting for Ben to wait. The boy stopped.  
  
Perfect, Lursan thought. He aimed and fired.  
  
To be continued.... 


	31. Part ThirtyOne

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-One  
  
--------------  
  
Sinja-Bau slowly opened her eyes and found herself looking into the large, leaf-green eyes of Master Yoda. The two were alone in Yoda's meditation chamber, both sitting on cushions, the late morning light streaming in through the windows. The ex-Jedi had been meeting with Yoda for most of the morning, having arrived at the Temple just as the sun rose. She had unburdened to him what had happened last night with Dalan and Onara, conveying her fears and her disquiet at how easily she had called upon the dark side of the Force.  
  
After listening to her, Yoda had instructed her to meditate, which Sinja- Bau had been doing for the last two hours, but her meditation had not calmed her nor driven away her fears. If anything, they had magnified, because during her meditation, her terrifying visions from the time she had been insane had come back to her; visions of the Jedi Temple in flames, the slaughterer of the light and the broken bodies of the younglings.  
  
"Peace you did not find," Yoda said softly.  
  
Sinja-Bau lowered her head and looked at hands where they were clasped tightly in her lap.  
  
"No, Master, I did not."  
  
"Surprised I am not."  
  
Sinja-Bau lifted her head and looked over at Yoda. "You're not?"  
  
"Strong the dark side has grown. Powerful and potent. Ever since the day Master Qui-Gon from his mission to Naboo returned and told us of the Sith he encountered, its power has grown and grown."  
  
"I felt it, even as I meditated. Like a cold, shadowy presence just on the edge of my awareness."  
  
"Many have felt this. Even I."  
  
"But, what is the Council doing about it, Master?"  
  
"What the Council must," was all Yoda would say. Sinja-Bau found herself somewhat annoyed with that cryptic, vague answer.  
  
"However," Yoda added, as if conscious of her annoyance, "being vigilant we are. You are not the only Jedi to confess to having touched the dark side."  
  
"I'm not?"  
  
"Many have reported such things. Some have even..." Yoda stopped and, his small shoulders rising and falling, released a heavy sigh.  
  
"Gone over to the dark side?" Sinja-Bau asked in a hushed voice, a tremor of fear skirling down her spine.  
  
"No, but close they have come. Those we have sequestered away, or sent on retreat. In some cases, they have had to be retrained. A few...," and Yoda slowly shook his head, "....a few we have had to expel from the Order."  
  
"Did you strip their Force powers from them?" Sinja-Bau asked, unable to stop the bitter words from tumbling out of her mouth.  
  
Yoda tilted his head, staring silently at Sinja-Bau. She looked back at him, then sighed.  
  
"Forgive me, Master. It is not seemly for me to harbor such resentment. The Force has been compassionate and given me back my powers."  
  
"That it has."  
  
Sinja-Bau looked down at her hands, her fingers weaving intricate patterns as they twined about each other.  
  
"Master?"  
  
"Yes, Sinja-Bau."  
  
"I've been thinking...about returning to the Order. Taking up my duties again."  
  
"Really?"  
  
Sinja-Bau raised her head and saw a tiny smile on the Jedi Master's wizened face. She returned it.  
  
"Yes, I have."  
  
"But, what about young Master Lenor and your training of him?"  
  
"I've so much enjoyed training Ben. Truly I have. He's such a joy and a delight. And a challenge," Sinja-Bau added, her lips curling up in a fond smile. "It's because I've so enjoyed training him that I thought perhaps I could be assigned as a proctor to the younglings...."  
  
Sinja-Bau's voice fell away for she saw that Yoda was no longer listening to her. His face was creased in pain, his eyes tightly shut.  
  
"Master," she cried, reaching over and touching his arm. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Pain, terrible pain," he grunted.  
  
"Are you ill?" she asked, about to rise from the cushion to summon help.  
  
"No, no," Yoda moaned, fiercely shaking his head. "Pain is not mine. Master Obi-Wan. Terrible pain he is in. Terrible."  
  
"Obi-Wan," Sinja-Bau whispered, her heart thudding in her chest.  
  
Then she also felt the seismic tremor in the Force, like a dark, hellish wave surging through space and time, and she heard a voice crying out. Obi- Wan's voice, screaming out his pain and his tortured denial and, along with that grief-stricken voice, a vision of Ben's face flared in Sinja-Bau's mind, and she knew what was the source of Obi-Wan's terrible agony.  
  
"Ben!" she shouted, leaping up from the meditation cushion and running out of the room.  
  
--------------  
  
Anakin sat, his hands clasped hard between his knees, leaning forward, his body coiled for action. But here, he reminded himself, there was no enemy to fight. Or, at least, not an enemy he, as a Jedi Padawan, could hope to defeat. The enemy roaming these sterile, pristine corridors was one he had to leave to the skill of those who were healers.  
  
He looked around. We're a tableau of pain, he thought, he, Obi-Wan, and Sinja-Bau. The three of them were as still and as silent as statuary within the waiting room of the hospital. To his left, Sinja-Bau sat rigidly, her hands clasped tightly on the arms of her chair, her face mottled with grief, her green-blue eyes staring unseeing across the room.  
  
Anakin followed her gaze. Obi-Wan stood, alone, his hood pulled over his head, his back to the room, in front of a large window that looked out upon a world going about its business as it had day after day, centuries upon centuries, oblivious to the anguish inside this room.  
  
His master had not said much since Anakin had found him cradling Ben's body, struggling to keep death from his son as he surrounded him with the Force until the med-pod arrived. He had said even less when he and Anakin arrived at the hospital with the med-pods which had transported Onara and Ben. Both had been rushed into emergency surgery. Both were in critical condition. Both were not expected to survive.  
  
Soon after, Sinja-Bau had arrived, but it was Anakin who had to tell her what had happened because Obi-Wan, by then, had turned away from Anakin, from everyone, waiting within the solitary confinement of his own anxious thoughts and emotions for word on Onara's and Ben's conditions.  
  
In all the years Anakin had been Obi-Wan's padawan, he had never felt so closed off from his master. There had been times, of course, during his apprenticeship, when Anakin had wondered if Obi-Wan regretted having made that vow to Qui-Gon to train him, but never had he felt so apart from Obi- Wan as he did now, so adrift, so alone.  
  
"Anakin!"  
  
His head snapped up. Padmé, accompanied by one of her handmaidens, ran towards him. She wore her official senatorial robes, so she must have come straight from a meeting of the Senate. Anakin rose from the chair and went over to her. She stopped and looked up at him, her beautiful dark eyes entreating him.  
  
"Anakin, Anakin," she whispered, as she took his hands between hers. "I just heard. Oh, Anakin. Please tell me they're all right."  
  
Anakin shook his head. "We're waiting to hear. Onara was stabbed. She's still in surgery"  
  
Padmé drew in a sharp gasp, squeezing his hands. "And Ben?"  
  
Anakin swallowed hard. "Ben...Ben was shot. With a blaster. Master Obi-Wan used the Force to stabilize him, but, Padmé," and he suddenly sobbed, unable to stanch his grief and anger, "He's so little! Gods! What kind of an animal would shoot a baby?"  
  
Padmé reached over and cupped his face with her soft hands, stroking the tears as they flowed down his face, oblivious to the ones now falling down hers. "I don't know, Ani. I truly don't know."  
  
He wept then, no longer trying to be a Jedi, no longer even trying to be a man. He was just a little boy, weeping in the arms of his mother at the injustices and cruelties of the universe. Padmé gently put her arms around him, and Anakin nestled his face in the soft warmth of her neck, dimly aware of the scent of her perfume.  
  
Finally, after he had wept out the tears he had struggled to hold in since arriving at the hospital, he gently moved away from Padmé, rubbing at his nose. She reached into a pocket of her robe and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to him. As he wiped his nose, he looked over and saw Obi-Wan had not stirred from his silent, solitary vigil at the window, his back still to them, his hood still drawn over his head.  
  
_Master_, Anakin sent out to him, but he could not bring himself to violate the shield Obi-Wan had erected around himself. He wasn't even sure if his master was trying to keep others out or something within himself locked in. Glancing over at Sinja-Bau, Anakin saw the older woman's eyes on him. They were full of empathy, but she too remained still and silent.  
  
Padmé took Anakin by the hand, and her handmaiden, whom he now saw was the one named Dormé, moved over to a chair next to Sinja-Bau, her dark eyes, so much like Padmé's, shimmering with tears. Padmé guided Anakin back to his chair and sat next to him. She kept his hand between hers.  
  
"What happened, Ani? Who did these terrible things? And why?"  
  
Anakin shot her a hard glance, unable to keep the hatred out of his voice. "Senator Gillom."  
  
"Gillom?"  
  
"He didn't do it himself, of course, but he hired someone to do it. Lursan."  
  
"Lursan? Dalan's friend?"  
  
Anakin nodded. He quickly told Padmé how Dalan had contacted Obi-Wan upon learning the senator had hired Lursan to kill Onara.  
  
"But we never thought that Ben was also a target. Why would Gillom want to hurt him? Onara's on the Ethics Committee investigating him. Why hurt Ben?"  
  
"Anakin, I know Gillom is a scoundrel and a crook, but I can't imagine he would want to see a child harmed."  
  
Anakin angrily waved his arm down the hallway to where the surgical rooms were located.  
  
"You don't have to imagine it, Padmé," he snarled, not wishing to be angry with her, but unable to stop himself. "Ben's down there, near death, and Gillom was the one who put the contract out on him and Onara."  
  
"But, maybe it was an accident, Ani. Did Ben get in the way somehow, or did Lursan say why he did it?"  
  
"No, Ben didn't get in the way," he sneered at her, the rage and horror he had felt at seeing his weeping master holding Ben to his chest overwhelming him. "Lursan hunted Ben down. Then he hid somewhere, like a vile, loathsome sneak of a killer and shot him, in cold blood, as he was running towards Obi-Wan."  
  
Anakin's eyes blazed. "As for Lursan he got away. The entire complex was searched, but there was no sign of him. A Bimm attendant was found, however. Murdered. Lursan killed him, stabbed him the same way he stabbed Onara. But if that Sith-spawn think he's getting off Coruscant, he can forget it. There are security forces and Jedi at every spaceport. He'll be found."  
  
Anakin clenched his hands into hard, tight fists. "He'll be found," he repeated in a grim voice, the words giving him a fervent sense of satisfaction. And great anticipation.  
  
Then he looked down. Padme was massaging his hands, smoothing away his fists until his fingers were once more loose and open. She slid her palm against his and, at her touch, Anakin's rage and vengeance vanished, and all he felt now was shame at having lashed out at her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Padmé. I didn't meant to yell at you. It's just...it's just...he's only a baby!"  
  
She looked up at him, only compassion in her dark eyes. "You don't have to apologize, Ani," she said softly. "You never have to apologize to me."  
  
He looked at her, both surprised and grateful, a tiny flame igniting at her words within the darkness inside his soul. Padmé gave him a small smile, but then the sorrow returned to her eyes.  
  
Anakin lowered his head and touched her forehead with his. "I can't help but think it's my fault somehow. I don't know why I think that. I haven't done anything to Senator Gillom or to Lursan, but I can't help thinking I've had some part to play in this."  
  
"You mustn't blame yourself, Anakin," Sinja-Bau said, her voice cracked and weary. He raised his head and looked over at her. "I looked into Lursan's eyes, day after day, stood next to him, spoke with him and, although I suspected there was something not quite right with him, I never saw this. I never saw it."  
  
Anakin was about to dispute Sinja-Bau's assessment of her role in the tragic events, but was startled when he heard a voice from across the room; a voice he had heard nearly every day for the past ten years, but never with such heaviness of spirit.  
  
"No," Obi-Wan said, his voice low, but discernable, his face hidden by the cowl of his hood as he stood before the window. "I was there. I could have saved him. I should have saved him. But I was not thinking like a Jedi, only as a father. I failed him, and I failed her."  
  
"Stop it, all of you!"  
  
Anakin blinked, startled, as Padmé turned her head swiftly around, her dark- eyed gaze sweeping across the three. "You're Jedi, not gods! And, not being gods, that means you're human, and humans make mistakes. It's arrogant to think that just because you can wield the Force, you can also control destiny or look into the mind of a madman. Continue along this path, thinking you're above the vagaries of fate and the limitations of your own humanity, and you doom yourselves. And us all."  
  
"Padmé," Anakin began, "You have no idea what you're talking---"  
  
"Hush, Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice, barely a whisper, but as sharp and keen as a laser, cut through the air. "Padmé is right, Padawan. She is right."  
  
Anakin was about to protest, but felt Padmé's hand on his arm. He looked down into her beautiful face, and his anger, once again, was quieted. She took his hand in hers and held it, both of them lost within their own thoughts. Then she leaned close to him.  
  
"Where is Dalan? Why isn't he here?"  
  
"We sent word to him as soon as we arrived at the hospital. He and Keria are on their way."  
  
Padmé nodded, then turned away. Anakin followed her gaze and saw a physician coming down the hall. He stood, Padmé following. Sinja-Bau watched the physician, a gray-haired, dark-skinned woman, as she entered the waiting room. The ex-Jedi continued to sit, however, Dormé next to her, but her body was as taut as a strung bow.  
  
Obi-Wan, upon hearing the approaching footsteps, turned from the window, pushing his hood from his head. As had happened when he first came upon Obi- Wan and Ben in the _Hall of Worlds_, Anakin cringed at the naked, raw pain in his master's eyes. The physician stopped and looked around the room.  
  
"I'm Dr. Melsi. Is the family of Onara and Ben Lenor here?"  
  
Padmé moved forward. "Onara's husband is on his way. But we are their friends. Please, tell us, how are they?"  
  
Dr. Melsi wearily rubbed the back of her neck. "Lady Lenor is going to be fine. She lost a great deal of blood and sustained some rather nasty internal injuries, but she'll live. It will be a long recovery, however, and she'll need to stay in the hospital for a week or so."  
  
Even from where he stood, Anakin could sense the relief in his master's body but, like him, he still waited for the rest of the physician's report.  
  
"And Ben?" Padmé asked, and Anakin was not surprised she had become, in a sense, unofficial spokesperson for them. He knew he could not trust himself to speak, and neither, he suspected, could Obi-Wan or Sinja-Bau.  
  
Dr. Melsi moved closer and her eyes, which Anakin now saw were a dark gold, dimmed. He knew what she was about to say, and a part of him wondered whether it get easier or harder for her each time.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, those two words tolling within the room like an ominous bell. "We did all we could. But his injuries, they were too massive." She shook her head. "There's nothing more we can do."  
  
"He's not----" Padmé choked on the rest of the sentence.  
  
"No, he's still alive, but not for long, I'm afraid. His mother is unconscious and will remain so for quite some time. I was hoping his father was here. One of his parents should be with him before..."  
  
Dr. Melsi stopped and bit her lip, and Anakin saw it didn't get easier for her, delivering such news. He looked over at Obi-Wan. His master's arms were folded within the sleeves of his robe, his head lowered, the lights of the waiting room glimmering on the red-gold of his hair. But, at the physician's last words, he quickly raised his head, has face a rigid mask of barely restrained anguish, his blue-gray eyes steady, but shimmering. He walked over until he was standing just in front of the physician.  
  
"I'm his father. His real father. May I see him?"  
  
The physician frowned slightly, taking in Obi-Wan's Jedi clothing, the lightsaber hanging from his belt and assuming, Anakin imagined, like so many others, that the Jedi were a purely celibate order.  
  
"Yes, of course," she finally said. "He's in the recovery room."  
  
Then she stopped, her eyes widening, for she knew, as they all did now, that Ben would not be recovering. She quickly turned, her shoes squeaking on the floor.  
  
Before following her, Obi-Wan looked silently over at Anakin and, at that moment, Anakin realized he dearly loved this man who was teacher, brother and father. Loved him more than he had thought possible. He gazed deeply into those now familiar eyes that some of his fellow female padawans had secretly confessed to him were some of the most beautiful in the Order, eyes that had, over the years, rebuked and praised him, grown cold with disapproval and warm with pride.  
  
As the two men continued to gaze at each other, Anakin felt he should say something, but what did you say to a man who was going off to say goodbye to his dying son. Especially a son he had barely spent more than a month with, having given him up to be raised by another.  
  
Obi-Wan stared at Anakin for a moment longer, then turned and followed the physician a short distance down the hall and into a room. As Obi-Wan went through the doors, Anakin had a sudden, horrible premonition he was seeing his master for the last time, or at least the man he had come to know and love.  
  
Once Obi-Wan was gone, Padmé turned and threw herself against Anakin's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He put his arms around her, holding her tight. Dormé, her face wet with tears, patted Sinja-Bau's hunched, shuddering shoulders, the older woman's face hidden in her hands as she wept.  
  
Then, as Anakin continued to hold Padmé he saw, through the hot, watery blur of his eyes, two figures moving slowly towards him, and he heard a familiar sound; the click, click, click of a walking stick on the floor.  
  
Turning her face from his tear-soaked tunic, Padmé saw, as Anakin now did, having blinked away his tears, Masters Yoda and Windu approaching. The tiny, aged Jedi was grunting softly as he made his way into the waiting room, Windu just behind him, matching his long strides to that of Yoda's.  
  
Anakin gently disentangled himself from Padme's embrace and went over to Yoda and Mace. He bowed deeply. "Masters."  
  
"Padawan Skywalker," Yoda said, returning Anakin's bow with a slight incline of his head. He took in the others in the waiting room. "Senator Amidala, Mistress Dormé, Master Sinja-Bau."  
  
Sinja-Bau had risen from her chair and was also bowing, her face streaked with tears. Yoda acknowledged her obeisance, then turned his head slowly around.  
  
"Master Obi-Wan. Where is he?"  
  
"With Ben," Anakin said, his throat full and tight.  
  
Yoda gazed at Anakin, then nodded solemnly, his green eyes filled with sorrow, and Anakin saw he did not have to tell Yoda the terrible news about Ben.  
  
"Senator Lenor?" Yoda asked.  
  
"She's going to be all right," Anakin told him. "She'll live."  
  
But, he now wondered, in light of what had happened to Ben, would she want to?  
  
"Thank you, Masters, for having come personally to support Master Obi-Wan," Anakin went on, his voice thick with emotion. "He will need your strength."  
  
Yoda and Windu exchanged a quick glance. Then Yoda peered up at Anakin. "Yes, our strength he will need. Wait with you we will."  
  
Yoda walked over to one of the chairs and, with Windu's help, settled himself in it. Then, placing his walking stick across his lap, he folded his hands before him and closed his eyes. Windu, however, remained standing, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark eyes watchful, but troubled as he stared down the hall at the room Anakin had indicated Obi-Wan was in.  
  
Anakin stared at Yoda and Windu. Both were esteemed senior members of the Council and two of the most powerful Jedi in the Order. He was profoundly grateful they had come to help his master in his time of need and, as he turned and looked at the room Obi-Wan had entered, he feared his master's need would be great indeed.  
  
To be continued... 


	32. Part ThirtyTwo

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Two  
  
----------------  
  
"You have heard, my Master."  
  
"Of course," Sidious snapped from where he sat in his huge, ebony chair deep within his hidden citadel on Coruscant, the cowl of his black robe pulled over his face and revealing only his thin, pale lips. "It would appear your operative went far beyond what was expected of him."  
  
Count Dooku nodded. "It would appear so."  
  
"Even I did not foresee he was capable of such wanton and callous brutality. The woman still lives, but the child is near death."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
Sidious leaned forward slightly. "An unexpected turn of events. However, we may be able to take advantage of it. When Kenobi called upon the dark side of the Force to bring his woman back from the Abyss, he was far away on Ahjane. Yet, even at that distance, I felt his power and was amazed at the strength of his will. However, now he is on Coruscant. Much closer. And much more is at stake this time."  
  
"You think, Master, that he will try and do the same thing with his son?"  
  
"Would you do any less, Lord Tyranus?"  
  
Dooku cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the question. He chose to ignore it, but was disturbed when Sidious suddenly grinned at him, a death- head of a smile.  
  
"I have foreseen it," Sidious went on, his voice a silky sneer. "Kenobi will try and bring his son's spirit back from the Abyss. When he does, I will assist him in his journey to the dark side, and he will be mine. Once I have him, Skywalker will follow. As will many others, and those who will not join us, will be destroyed. We are strong, my apprentice, and growing stronger, fueled by anger and fear, aggression and betrayal. Soon, nothing will stand in our way."  
  
Dooku inclined his head in acknowledgement of Sidious' words. "What of Lursan, Master?"  
  
"What of him?"  
  
"Do you have any further use for him?"  
  
"Has he been found?"  
  
"Not yet, Master. But, if you wish it, I will find him and dispose of him."  
  
Sidious remained silent for a moment. Dooku sensed he was calling upon the dark side, using its prescient powers to determine what course of action to take.  
  
"For the moment, do nothing, Lord Tyranus," he finally said. "He will not be able to leave Coruscant. The security forces and the Jedi will see to that. If he should prove a liability, however, we can always take care of him."  
  
"Yes, my Master."  
  
Dooku bowed and, turning, left Sidious' inner chamber. As he walked through the wide doors and out into the dimly lit corridor, he wanted to share in his master's confidence that Obi-Wan would turn to the dark side of the Force, but the young Jedi had been trained by Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon had once been Dooku's apprentice. As a result, he was not so sure Sidious was right. But, then, Dooku also surmised, a child's life was at stake. Who knew how far the Jedi Knight would go to save his son?  
  
-------------  
  
Obi-Wan was about to go through the doors to the recovery room, but Dr. Melsi grabbed his arm, stopping him. He looked over at her.  
  
"I just wanted you to know, Master Jedi, he's in no pain."  
  
"Thank you," Obi-Wan said softly. "Thank you for everything you've done. I know you did your best."  
  
"It's never easy," she said, her golden eyes looking deeply into his. "Losing a patient. Especially one so young."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his throat tightening. Dr. Melsi stepped away, and Obi-Wan moved through the doors as they slid open. The recovery room was similar to those in the Healer's Wing at the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan had spent some time in them over the years, checking in on injured comrades. As he walked over to the bed, he noted the lights, which were usually bright, had been lowered.  
  
Ben lay in the center of a bed meant for an adult. There was some tubing hooked up to his nose and a couple of thin silver wires attached to his arms. His eyes were closed and, for a moment, Obi-Wan feared it was too late, but then he saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest.  
  
He was about to take off his robe, then remembered he hadn't had time to change. There was still blood on his pants and tunic. He wrapped his robe tightly around himself and sat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he just let himself watch Ben sleep, his eyes taking in his thick, black hair, so like Onara's, his snub of a nose, his lips, which were slightly parted, and the tiny dimple on his chin.  
  
As he looked over at Ben, Obi-Wan struggled to hold himself together, but there was a slow rage building inside him, a hot, burning core of anger that had flamed into being with the firing of that blaster in the _Hall of Worlds_. While in the waiting room, he had sensed Anakin yearning to comfort him, but Obi-Wan had needed to be alone, to remind himself he was still a Jedi, because all he had wanted to do was find Lursan and rip his heart from his chest.  
  
So he had repeated, over and over as he had stood in front of the window, the Jedi Code: _There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the Force._  
  
"There is no death," he said softly as he reached over and stroked Ben's hair.  
  
At his touch, Ben stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He looked around, then over at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Obi-Wan," he said, his voice weak, but full of happiness.  
  
"Ben," Obi-Wan replied, smiling down at him.  
  
"You found me."  
  
"Yes, I did."  
  
"I hoped you would." Then Ben looked around the recovery room. "Where's Mama?"  
  
"She's sleeping."  
  
"Is she okay? Did Lursan hurt her?"  
  
"She's fine, Ben. She's just resting now. As you should be."  
  
"Is Papa here?"  
  
"No, not yet, but he's on his way."  
  
Ben closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan, fearing he was slipping away, put his hand on his chest, but his son's heart was still beating, his life force flickering like a flame in the wind, but still present. Ben opened his eyes again and looked up at him.  
  
"Obi-Wan?"  
  
"Yes, Ben?"  
  
"Are you my father? My real father?"  
  
Obi-Wan started, his hand trembling where it lay on Ben's chest. He lowered his head for a moment, then raised it, taking in and releasing a deep breath.  
  
"Yes, Ben, I am your father."  
  
Ben looked up at him, his blue-gray eyes shining, a smile on his lips. "I knew it."  
  
Obi-Wan returned his smile. "How did you know?"  
  
"I had a dream, and you were holding me, and you kept saying, 'Hold on, son, hold on."  
  
Obi-Wan could only shake his head in wonderment. He had whispered those very words to Ben as he cradled him in his arms, channeling the Force to him to keep him stable, but he had thought Ben was unconscious. Now, recalling that moment, the tears began to flow down his cheeks. Ben reached up. Obi-Wan lowered his face and Ben softly touched his tears.  
  
"I didn't know Jedi cried."  
  
"They do, Ben, they do."  
  
"Please don't cry, Papa," he said, gently stroking his face. "I'm not afraid."  
  
"You're not?" Obi-Wan said in a choked voice.  
  
Ben shook his head and lowered his hand back to the bed. Obi-Wan took it. It was so small in his. He gently squeezed it.  
  
"You're my brave little Jedi," he said, his voice full of pride and love.  
  
Ben smiled. "Mama calls me that. She calls me her little Jedi Knight."  
  
"And you are," Obi-Wan whispered. "You're the bravest Jedi I've ever known."  
  
"Am I, Papa? But, I can't be a real Jedi."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I don't have a lightsaber yet."  
  
Obi-Wan lifted Ben's hand and kissed it. "Then I'll get you one, my love."  
  
"Like yours?"  
  
"Yes, exactly like mine."  
  
Ben smiled, then closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan felt his life force slipping away.  
  
"No, Ben, no," he cried. "Stay with me, son. Stay with me."  
  
Ben opened his eyes, but Obi-Wan could see the light in their blue-grayness slowly dimming.  
  
"Papa?" he said weakly.  
  
"Yes, love?" Obi-Wan sobbed.  
  
"Take care of Obi-Wan for me."  
  
Obi-Wan blinked, for a moment not knowing what Ben was talking about. Then he remembered. Obi-Wan was the name of Ben's pet voorpak.  
  
"Mama doesn't like to watch him eat," he went on softly, "so you have to feed him when she's not around."  
  
"Of course I'll take care of him," Obi-Wan said, his tears blinding him. He quickly blinked them away, but more replaced them. "But, once you're well, you're be able to take care of him."  
  
Ben nodded. Then he stared up at Obi-Wan. "Papa?" he whispered.  
  
"Yes, Ben? Ben. Ben! BEN!"  
  
--------------  
  
Anakin, who had been standing, his arm around Padmé's shoulder, jumped at Obi-Wan's shattering cry. He moved away from Padmé and was about to run into the recovery room when he felt someone grab his arm. Whipping his head around, he saw it was Master Windu.  
  
"Let me go!" Anakin cried.  
  
"No, stay here," Windu told him, his dark eyes hard and sharp.  
  
"But, my Master," Anakin cried as he struggled against the firm grip Windu had on his arm.  
  
"Stay here, Anakin! That's an order."  
  
Anakin swiveled his head over to where Yoda sat, hoping to convince him to do something about Windu, who had apparently lost his mind. Then, as he had back on Ahjane, on that terrible day when Obi-Wan almost lost Onara, Anakin felt his master calling upon the Force, pulling it towards him with all his strength and all his power. He had called upon the dark side that day, but, with Anakin's help, had not succumbed to it and had brought Onara's spirit back from the Abyss.  
  
But this time, there was something different. Anakin could sense another presence within the maelstrom Obi-Wan was drawing unto himself. Something evil and foul, loathsome and vile, a malignant tumor, a festering growth, concentrating all its energy on Obi-Wan. As Anakin struggled in Windu's grasp, there was a sudden taste of ashes and dust in his mouth. He looked over at Yoda. The Jedi Master's eyes were tightly closed, his body straining as if he were fighting some terrible battle, his hands shuddering where they were clasped around his walking stick.  
  
"Let me go," Anakin raged, but Windu held him fast. "My master! He's in trouble."  
  
"I know," Windu said, a muscle in his jaw jumping wildly. "But you can not help him."  
  
---------------------  
  
Again, as had happened on Ahjane, Obi-Wan's consciousness, fueled by the dark side, tore through the veil that separated life and death. As soon as he felt Ben's life force slipping away, Obi-Wan threw his awareness into that howling tempest of nothingness, searching frantically for his son's spirit. But, this time, instead of Anakin helping him, as he'd done when Obi-Wan brought Onara's spirit back from the Abyss, there was a different presence with him in the Void, channeling its strength and its power to him. But it was not the Light. It was the Darkness.  
  
To be continued.... 


	33. Part ThirtyThree

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Three  
  
---------------  
  
Obi-Wan's consciousness was buffeted about in the howling maelstrom of the Void that separated life and death and, just as had happened on Ahjane, he heard the voices of past Jedi calling out and urging him to stop and, just like before, there were also the voices of dark Jedi, goading him to call more and more upon the powers of the dark side.  
  
__No longer will you be helpless!__ the voices cried. __You will be strong, powerful, able to protect those that you love. Give yourself to the dark side!__  
  
Obi-Wan once again heeded those voices, fueled by his anguish. He could not lose Ben, he told himself fiercely. He would not! And it wasn't fair! Ben was his son, his only child, but he had done as the Force had bid him do and given him to another to be raised, just as he had given Onara to another to be loved, because he, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, had done as he'd always done and followed the will of the Force.  
  
Now, he was losing Ben, and would also, as a result, lose Onara. Because Obi-Wan knew in his heart what Ben's death would do to her. So he listened to those dark voices that had now blended together to become one terrible, evil voice, and he let the dark power pour into him. Bloated with it he became, burning like a dark sun in the emptiness of despair, and he swept after the whirling cyclone that was bearing Ben's spirit into the Abyss, the dark side energy fueling his pursuit.  
  
__Yes, yes, that's it. Feel the power of the dark side. Use it to find your son's spirit and bring him back with you. Put life back into his body. He is powerful too, just like you. Very strong with the Force. Once he's alive again, you can then show him the way, show him the power of the dark side.__  
  
Obi-Wan heard the words of that sepulchral voice, the promise it gave to him of Ben alive and at his side. But filled with the dark side of the Force, just as he would be.  
  
NO! Obi-Wan's consciousness shuddered within the maelstrom, even as Ben's spirit sped away from him into the Void. Not that! Not that! That's not what he wanted; Ben an apprentice of the dark side, and Obi-Wan his master, the two of them servants to whatever vile creature was feeding its dark side power to Obi-Wan. No! Never!  
  
__Fool! Better to have him alive in the darkness, then dead in the light. And you must think of her. Of your beloved Onara. If Ben dies, she will never forgive you. She will hate you forever. Even she would see the wisdom of this. Give in to the dark side and save your son!__  
  
Obi-Wan howled, screaming, cursing whatever destiny had brought him to this horrible choice. He wasn't strong enough to do this on his own. Anakin had helped him the last time. Where was he? Someone help me, Obi-Wan cried out into the swirling darkness. Help me save my son!  
  
__They won't help you. They're too afraid, Yoda and Windu. Yes, they're both here. But Windu is using his power to restrain Anakin, keeping him from helping you. He's afraid the boy will fall under my influence. And he would, if he came in here with you. He's so young, so strong, so angry. As for your precious Master Yoda, he's too busy trying to find out who I am to help you. But he will fail in that attempt, just as you will fail unless you listen to me. You are alone, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and only the dark side can save your son. Let it help you. Let me help you. I am your only hope, his only hope.__  
  
Obi-Wan looked out with his awareness. Ben's tiny spirit was far away now, just a glimmer upon the horizon that was the Abyss. It would take Obi-Wan's complete and total surrender to the dark side of the Force to draw the power he needed to save him now.  
  
Forgive me, my son, Obi-Wan wept, as Ben's spirit vanished into the Abyss. Forgive me.  
  
__FOOL! You let him go! He's gone. You failed. And you've failed her. Now she'll hate you. Hate you for being weak, hate you for being too much of a Jedi to save her child.__  
  
The voice raged on, but Obi-Wan no longer heard it. Then it left him, and he was alone, floating, senseless, empty, shattered, within the Void that was not only the border between life and death, but was now the hollowness of his own devastated soul.  
  
Ben was gone, and that voice of darkness was right. Onara would never forgive him. Nothing mattered now. He had lost everything. Yes, he now realized, everything, for he had even lost that which had sustained him all the years of his existence.  
  
No longer did he feel the Force, because he would not allow himself to feel it. It was the Force that had brought him to this moment and left him alone with this terrible choice. The Force had taken away his only son for some incomprehensible reasons of its own.  
  
Qui-Gon, his master, had taught Obi-Wan well. The ways of the Force, he had said to him, are often beyond our understanding, but we must listen to the Force and follow it, wherever it leads us.  
  
No, Master, Obi-Wan thought. Forgive me, but I will no longer listen to the Force, nor will I follow it. It abandoned me and it abandoned my son, therefore I will abandon it.  
  
Obi-Wan was well aware of the cost of his decision, because without the Force, there was no way he could bring his consciousness out of the Void, but he longer cared.  
  
Then he felt a familiar presence in the emptiness with him; wise, compassionate, gentle. It enfolded Obi-Wan, like a father embracing a wounded son, and guided him back out of the Void.  
  
----------  
  
"Let me go!"  
  
Anakin finally tore away from Mace's grip, not realizing it was Mace who had let him go. He ran to the recovery room and through the door. Once inside he froze, his throat swelling with grief. He could both see and sense that Ben was gone. Obi-Wan sat next to the bed, Ben's hand in his, his head bowed, his shoulders hunched. Anakin walked slowly over to him.  
  
"Master?"  
  
Obi-Wan turned his head and looked up at Anakin. The first time Obi-Wan had called upon the dark side to bring Onara back, the hair at his temples had been streaked with white. There was a little more white in his red-gold hair, but it wasn't that which made the blood drain from Anakin's face. It was the look in his master's blue-gray eyes. Bleak they were and filled with utter despair, a desolate landscape of pain and grief.  
  
"My son is dead," he said in lifeless monotone. "My son is dead."  
  
Tears filled Anakin's eyes. He reached over and put his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders.  
  
"Master, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."  
  
Obi-Wan turned away and looked back at Ben. Anakin followed his gaze and was startled. Although he knew Ben's spirit was gone, it looked as if he were only sleeping. There was even a tiny smile on his lips. Obi-Wan reached over and stroked Ben's dark hair, gently, tenderly. Then, Anakin heard a sound that suddenly made the blood surge in his veins. It was the clicking of Yoda's walking stick against the floor. He whirled around.  
  
Yoda stood in the doorway, leaning upon his stick as if the weight of the universe was on his shoulders. The Jedi Master had always looked old to Anakin, but now he looked positively ancient, and there was a look in his eyes that bespoke exhaustion and weariness. Obi-Wan also turned and looked at Yoda.  
  
"Why?" he rasped. "Why?"  
  
Yoda walked a little further into the room, then he stopped. He leaned on his walking stick, releasing a heavy breath.  
  
"The will of the Force it was."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. There was an intensity in his eyes that Anakin had never seen before. A kind of exact, heightened assessment, as if his master were weighing and examining the minutiae of Yoda's every word, every gesture.  
  
"Of course, the will of the Force," but there was an edge to Obi-Wan's voice, a sharpness that sent a chill down Anakin's spine. "Then it should please you to know, Master, and the Jedi Council also, that I did my duty as a Jedi. I did not turn to the dark side. I faced the test, and I passed it. And, as a result, my son is dead."  
  
"Obi-Wan---" Yoda began.  
  
"Get out," Obi-Wan said, his voice low and throbbing. "I did not turn. What more do you want from me? That's why you and Master Windu came, is it not? To keep me from turning, or to kill me if I did. Well, now you can go back to the Council and report that I kept my honor and my vows as a Jedi Knight. I did my duty. I did not turn. And my son is dead."  
  
"Obi-Wan, you must not---"  
  
"Get out!" Obi-Wan roared. "Leave me! Leave me alone with my son!"  
  
Yoda stared at the young Jedi for a moment, then, turning slowly, his head bowed, left the room. Anakin looked back at Obi-Wan, his hands still on his master's shoulders.  
  
"Master---"  
  
"Go, Anakin, please, just go," Obi-Wan said, but his voice was once again lifeless, devoid of anything but the ashes of his grief.  
  
Anakin squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulders, then he turned and walked towards the door. But, as he went through them, he heard from behind Obi-Wan's voice, soft, but tortured.  
  
"How will I tell her? How will I tell her?"  
  
Anakin clenched his fist and walked out of the room, the doors sliding shut behind him. He looked over towards the waiting room. Padmé and Dormé were sitting next to Sinja-Bau, comforting her as she was now almost hysterical with grief. But Anakin's business was not with them. He strode over to where Yoda and Mace stood to the side.  
  
"Why?" he asked, just as Obi-Wan had.  
  
Yoda looked up at him, his leaf-green eyes shimmering with the ages of his long life. "The dark side---"  
  
"The dark side, the light side," Anakin sneered. "None of that matters. There's only one dichotomy in the universe that does. Life and death."  
  
He whipped his arm about and pointed to the recovery room. "Ben is dead. I could have saved him. I did it before. I helped bring Onara back. I could have done the same with Ben."  
  
Yoda wearily shook his head. "No, Padawan Skywalker, not this time."  
  
"How do you know?" Anakin shouted. "You didn't even let me try. You didn't trust me enough, you didn't trust my master enough. And because you didn't, a sweet, loving child, as full of the light as any I've ever known is lost. As is my master, as will be Onara when she wakes up and finds out her child is dead. But you didn't think of that, did you?"  
  
Padmé had risen from her seat and was now at Anakin's side. She touched his arm. "Ani, don't."  
  
Anakin angrily shook her off. He was too far gone in his rage now. He even imagined he could hear, as if from a great distance, but close enough that if he only concentrated, he might sense who it was, someone laughing, but it was a dry, malevolent laughter, like the scraping of bones across rocks.  
  
"Look at you. The great and powerful Masters Yoda and Windu," Anakin snarled. "You think you know everything. You think you're so wise, so powerful. But you're not." Anakin shook his head, his lips curling. "What do you know about love, hmm? Do you know what it's like to love a woman the way Master Obi-Wan loves Onara? To love a child, the way he loved Ben? Do you? Do you? No, of course you don't. Why? Because a Jedi shall not know anger, or hatred, or love."  
  
Anakin moved closer, his eyes flicking back between Yoda and Windu. "Look at me, Masters. I'm a Jedi. And I've known love." He glanced over at Padmé who was watching him with wide eyes. He turned back to the Jedi Masters. "And if I know love, then it also means I can know anger and hatred."  
  
"Anakin, don't," Padme cried.  
  
"It wasn't just Ben who died in there," he raged. "I promise you. There will be more deaths, more sorrow, more grief."  
  
Then Anakin stopped, for he was suddenly overcome with an image in his mind, He'd had dreams before, and some of them had come true, but this was different. This was a vision, unbidden, but as sharp and real as a moment in time. He saw the Jedi Temple, and it was in flames, and he heard screaming and wailing, the voices of the dead and the dying, the crying of the innocents, and behind it all that dry, evil laughter. He closed his eyes, wanting to deny what he was seeing, but unable to.  
  
"Ani?"  
  
Anakin opened his eyes. Padmé stood next to him, her hands on his arm. The vision misted away, and all he could see was her lovely face, looking tenderly up at him.  
  
"Padmé," he whispered. And, for a moment, he imagined himself losing her, the way Obi-Wan had lost Ben, and he wondered what he would do if offered the same choice Obi-Wan had faced; to turn to the dark side to save someone he loved.  
  
Then he heard a voice, and his heart lurched in his chest. He looked up and saw Dalan, along with Keria, running down the hallway. He'd forgotten about the Dynast.  
  
"Onara, where is she?" Dalan asked, his dark blue eyes bloodshot, his black hair mussed, a day's growth of beard on his face.  
  
Padmé moved away from Anakin and over to the Dynast. She took his arms.  
  
"Onara is fine, Dalan. She's unconscious, but the physician said she'll recover."  
  
"Oh, thank the gods," Dalan cried, tears spilling down his cheeks. "And Ben?"  
  
Padmé squeezed Dalan's arms, her throat working as she looked up at him, her dark eyes fixed on his. Dalan stared down at her, his face crumbling, his body trembling.  
  
"No, no, no, no, no," he stuttered.  
  
"Dalan, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Padmé whispered.  
  
Dalan twisted away from her, a wild look in his eyes.  
  
"Ben, Ben," he shouted. "Where are you, son? Where are you. Papa's here. He's here!"  
  
He ran down the hall, Anakin in pursuit. He grabbed the Dynast.  
  
"No, let me go," Dalan cried, "I have to find my son. He needs me. He'll be afraid if I'm not there."  
  
Anakin struggled with him, then he shook Dalan hard to get his attention. "I'll take you to him. Please, Dynast, come with me."  
  
Dalan stared at him for a moment, then nodded, slumping against Anakin. Guiding him towards the recovery room, Anakin saw Yoda and Windu were gone. Padmé was now comforting Keria, the young blonde girl crying in her arms. He reached the recovery room and, his arm still around Dalan, activated the door. Dalan looked inside.  
  
"Oh, gods, no," he groaned. "No, gods, no."  
  
Obi-Wan, who was still sitting next to Ben's bed, rose at the sound of Dalan's voice. The Dynast was now thrashing in Anakin's arms, and, for a moment, Anakin feared he was having some kind of seizure. He struggled to hold him.  
  
Then he felt Obi-Wan next to him. His master reached out and placed a hand on Dalan's arm. At his touch, the Dynast suddenly calmed. Anakin stepped away. The two men looked at each other, then Obi-Wan put his arm around Dalan, who was now sobbing, and helped him into the room, the door sliding shut behind them.  
  
To be continued... 


	34. Part ThirtyFour

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Four  
  
----------------  
  
Darth Sidious drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and his hands were clasped tightly about the arms of his black chair. He had failed. Kenobi had not turned as he had foreseen. If only Sidious hadn't had to divide his energy between seducing Kenobi and fending off Yoda's fumbling attempts to discover his identity. Meddling old troll!  
  
The light side of the Force, despite the growing power of the dark side, was still strong, and because it was it had been difficult for Sidious to bring Kenobi completely over to him. That troubled Sidious. The light and dark sides of the Force were like two great bubbles of energy, struggling for supremacy. However, for the past thousands of years since the Great Sith War, it was the light side which had dominated. Now it was time for the rising of the Dark.  
  
Sidious was well aware of the prophecy that spoke of a Chosen One who would bring balance to the Force, and he knew many, but not all, within the Jedi Order believed Skywalker was this Chosen One. But Sidious wasn't interested in balancing the Force.  
  
He sought complete and utter domination of the dark side over the light. Nothing else would satisfy him. He was even contemplating writing a compendium about it. A compendium in which he would extol the virtues of the dark side. Perhaps, once all his objectives had been accomplished, he would sit down and write it. Hundreds of volumes detailing everything a potential darksider would need to know.  
  
However, first he had to accomplish his goals, and today had been a setback. But no matter, he thought as he willed himself back into a state of calm and deliberate reflection. A grievous blow had been struck against those arrogant Jedi. Kenobi, one of their most powerful and gifted Knights, had lost his son, and Sidious had sensed the young Jedi's overwhelming despair and subsequent loss of faith as a result. He would no longer be the same person.  
  
As for Kenobi's apprentice, Skywalker, Sidious had also sensed the boy's rage at Yoda and Windu, a rage fueled by his overwhelming need to protect those he loved. That was Anakin's weakness. Love. He would do anything to keep those he loved from harm.  
  
Sidious contemplated this, already foreseeing a way he could use this to his advantage. Then, he found his thoughts returning to Kenobi. Sidious, like Yoda, was prescient, and he often saw future events. Some came true, some did not; therefore, he was very careful as to how he made use of such visions. The future was always in motion, and one event, even one as insignificant as whether a particular man on a certain planet chose to go left instead of right, could cause a new future to unfold.  
  
In his visions, Sidious had seen a death profoundly affecting Kenobi, but it had been the woman who had died, not the child. Ben's death had been unexpected, especially since Sidious had convinced himself Kenobi would do everything in his power to save his son. But, the Jedi had, at the last, and faced with the most horrific of decisions, remained a Jedi. But that decision, Sidious knew, had cost him dearly.  
  
Sidious frowned, his thoughts racing, because he was beginning to sense there were higher powers at work, powers he could only dimly glimpse in his deepest meditations. The child was not supposed to die, he mulled, or, at the very least, Kenobi should have brought his son's spirit back from the Abyss, having turned to the dark side of the Force to do so. Both of them, the father and son, should now be his servants.  
  
But, because Obi-Wan had not turned, and his son had died, pathways that had been following one channel of prophecy had now shifted to another. But it was a path Sidious could not yet see. Therefore, he did not know whether it aided his grand purpose or not, this new future the child's death had engendered.  
  
Sidious rose from his chair and walked over to the Sith shrine he had erected in his chamber. He stared at the intricate black and red design of the Mandala of Rage which was the shrine's centerpiece and found himself pondering what effect the death of this one small child could have on his plans.  
  
For he sensed Ben's death had affected his Grand Design, but in ways he could not yet foresee. That deeply troubled Sidious, because he did not like uncertainty. Once the Mandala of Rage was fixed in his mind, he closed his eyes and sank within the dark thoughts the mandala always evoked, searching for answers and hoping for a vision that would show him what he needed to do to prevent disaster, because as strong as the dark side was, Sidious knew that all was not yet certain, all was not yet assured. He could still fail.  
  
-------------  
  
It was the waiting that was the hardest.  
  
Obi-Wan recalled that as he sat in the chair next to Onara's bed. It was always the waiting that was the hardest. The times he and Anakin had waited before advancing upon some stronghold, or for an answer to their final proposal during negotiation, or to hear if a fellow Jedi who had been injured was going to live or die.  
  
But, even as he thought about this, Obi-Wan wondered if this time that axiom wasn't true. As he waited for Onara to awaken, he sensed it wasn't the waiting that would be the hardest. It would be telling her he had let their son die.  
  
It was later that evening. Onara had remained unconscious for most of the day. Concerned, Obi-Wan had questioned her physician about it, a Quarren, who, not surprisingly, had reminded Obi-Wan of Master Eo, the Quarren Jedi Healer who had accompanied Obi-Wan to Ahjane to treat Onara and who had died protecting Ben.  
  
But, this Quarren, a Dr. Manu, was not a Jedi. He had assured Obi-Wan that Onara was fine, and it was good she was getting some much needed rest.  
  
Now, as he watched her sleep, Obi-Wan marveled over how beautiful she was, even after Lursan's terrible attack on her, even after the hours of surgery she had undergone. Her dark hair was spread across the white pillows, her long lashes lying on her pale cheeks, the bruises that had been on her face still visible, but, as a result of the medication she was receiving, nearly gone.  
  
She looked thinner, frailer, but he knew how fiercely she had fought Lursan to protect Ben. And Obi-Wan, as he gazed at her, was filled with just as fierce a need to protect her. But, he knew, as he reached over and stroked her cheek, that he could not protect her from what she had to face once she woke up.  
  
A part of him wished she would remain like this, not because he didn't want her back, because he did, more than anything in the universe. He wanted her beautiful dark eyes open and gazing tenderly up at him, her lovely mouth curled up in one of her warm smiles, her soft arms around his neck. But now, at least she was at peace. A peace that would be shattered upon her awakening.  
  
Leaning back in his chair, Obi-Wan looked down at himself. He still felt strange in these clothes he now wore. Earlier, after making arrangements for Ben's body to be placed in stasis for return to Ahjane, as Dalan had been too distraught to do it himself, Obi-Wan, along with Keria, had accompanied the Dynast to his and Onara's apartment. Anakin had gone back to the Jedi Temple, as had Sinja-Bau, but Obi-Wan, for reasons he had kept to himself, had not.  
  
Upon arriving at the apartment, he and Keria put Dalan to bed, after Obi- Wan administered a mild sedative to the still distressed Dynast, given to him by one of the physicians at the hospital. Once he was assured Dalan was sleeping, Obi-Wan asked Keria if he could take a shower. He was still wearing his Jedi outfit and Onara's blood was on it, but he wanted to return to the hospital as soon as possible.  
  
Keria gave him everything he needed in the way of toiletry, weeping softly as she did so, but Obi-Wan realized he didn't have anything to wear. Although he knew it wouldn't take long for Keria to clean his clothes, for reasons he didn't want to explore too deeply, he did not want to put back on his Jedi outfit. Keria offered him one of Dalan's suits to wear, but, aware the Dynast was a few inches taller than Obi-Wan, adjusted it for him while he showered.  
  
He knew she was still weeping as she worked, but he himself was not. At least not openly. He chose to shed his tears inside, privately. From the moment he'd seen Dalan struggling like a mad man in Anakin's arms, a calmness had settled over Obi-Wan. Not the calmness of peace, but the icy serenity of unrelenting despair.  
  
He had comforted Dalan, even as the Dynast had sobbed hysterically, blaming himself for Ben's death, confessing to Obi-Wan his jealousy of him and his fears of losing Onara, and of his own complicity in what he had thought was going to be Lursan's attack on the Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan had listened to Dalan's confession, and had forgiven him, because he knew the Dynast had acted only out of his desperate and unrequited love for Onara. Something Obi-Wan knew he had played some part in.  
  
After he was done with his shower and had dressed, Obi-Wan stared at himself in the mirror of the guest bedroom. It was him, but not him. There were a few more streaks of white in his red-gold hair, his blue-gray eyes were the same, if dimmer, but, as he examined himself in Dalan's clothes, the gray silk shirt, the dark blue jacket, the matching trousers, for a moment, he didn't know who he was. And that, he decided, was just fine, because the old Obi-Wan, the one who had, once again, chosen the Jedi Order over his son, was someone he no longer wished to be.  
  
However, he had not been able to totally let go of his old self. He had asked Keria for a belt to which he could attach his lightsaber. She had given him a slim, but sturdy, leather black one. Then he had returned to the hospital, after making sure Keria was all right, gently drying her tears. And, for the past three hours, he had sat next to the bed of the woman whose heart he was waiting to break.  
  
He had taken off his jacket and draped it behind the chair, but found himself fingering his trousers, unused to the expensive fabric so different from his own clothing. Then, hearing the door to the room opening, he turned. Anakin peered around it. Obi-Wan stood and walked over to him.  
  
"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin whispered, his eyes raking over the clothes Obi- Wan was wearing, "but I have some news I thought you'd want to hear right away."  
  
Obi-Wan gestured for Anakin to step into the hall, turning back briefly to make sure Onara was still sleeping. Once outside the room, he noted Anakin staring at his clothes, but he offered no explanation and hoped Anakin wouldn't ask for one.  
  
"What is it, Anakin?"  
  
Anakin's blue eyes narrowed. "Lursan. He's been arrested. He was trying to leave Coruscant, but one of the security forces spotted him at the Iljama Sector spaceport. He's being held at the Hall of Judgment."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "He will be tried for his crimes."  
  
Anakin snorted, and Obi-Wan glanced sharply up at him.  
  
"Tried," Anakin sneered. "He doesn't need to be tried, Master. He needs to die. Slowly, painfully."  
  
Obi-Wan was about to rebuke Anakin for his words, but then, he realized, that was what the old Obi-Wan would have done, the Obi-Wan who had let his son die. Instead, he reached over and grabbed Anakin's arm.  
  
"Do nothing, Padawan. Understand? Do nothing."  
  
"But, Master---"  
  
"Do nothing," Obi-Wan repeated firmly. "Leave Lursan to me."  
  
Anakin stared at Obi-Wan for a long moment. Then he nodded. He glanced at the door to Onara's room. "Do you want me to stay with you, Master?"  
  
"Thank you, Anakin, but no. I...I have to do this alone. Go back to the Temple. Attend to your duties. I'll contact you if I need you."  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin said softly.  
  
Then, surprising Obi-Wan, Anakin reached over and hugged him. Obi-Wan returned it, drawing strength from his Padawan, as he done that day back on Ahjane when he had brought Onara back from the Abyss, as he wished he could have done with Ben.  
  
"I'm sorry, Master, I'm so sorry," Anakin wept as if he'd heard Obi-Wan's thoughts. "I wasn't strong enough. I wanted to help you, but I couldn't. They wouldn't let me. But, I promise you, I'll never fail you again."  
  
"Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. Windu and Yoda..." Obi-Wan stopped and swallowed. "They did what they thought was best for the Order."  
  
"Best for the Order?" Anakin cried, pulling away from Obi-Wan, his face creased with anger as he wiped away his tears. "What about what was best for you? And for Onara? And for Ben? Did any of that figure into their big picture?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin, and his old self shuddered at what his new self said.  
  
"Apparently it did not." Then Obi-Wan took a deep breath, not wishing to lose himself entirely. "But, you are still a Jedi, Anakin. Remember that. You swore an oath to obey the Jedi Council. Do not violate that oath."  
  
"But, Master---"  
  
"Do as I say, Anakin. Let go of your anger. It will do you no good, in the short or long run."  
  
Anakin released a heavy breath, then nodded. Obi-Wan reached up and cupped his face.  
  
"Now, return to the Temple. I'll see you later."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
Anakin turned, his black robe sweeping behind him as he strode down the corridor and disappeared around a corner. Obi-Wan stood and watched where his Padawan had gone, already missing him. Then he turned and went back into Onara's room. He sat in the chair and watched, his heart beating hard, as Onara slowly stirred.  
  
To be continued.... 


	35. Part ThirtyFive

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Five  
  
----------  
  
Onara slowly opened her eyes. She looked over at Obi-Wan and smiled.  
  
"Obi-Wan," she whispered.  
  
He leaned over and took her hand, squeezing it gently.  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
"Sore, a little sleepy. Where am I?"  
  
"In the hospital. But, don't worry. You're going to be fine."  
  
Onara nodded, then her eyes widened when she saw the clothes he was wearing.  
  
"What are you doing in Dalan's clothes?" Then she smiled, her dark eyes sparkling. "You look very handsome in them. Is Dalan here?"  
  
"No, love, he's at the apartment."  
  
"Is Ben with him?"  
  
Obi-Wan swallowed, his heart kicking in his chest. He leaned closer to Onara, his grip on her hand tightening. Onara was still smiling at him, but as he continued to remain silent, his eyes boring deeply into hers, her smile slowly slipped away. He could feel her pulling her hand away, but he held it tighter.  
  
"No," she whispered, shaking her head.  
  
"Onara, oh my dear sweet love..." he began, but he stopped when Onara shook her head harder.  
  
"No," she repeated. "I saw him running. I told him to run. And he did." She looked up at Obi-Wan, her dark eyes shining with pride. "You should have seen him. My darling ran so fast. And I gave him enough time to get away. I know I did. And he's so smart. He would have found a good place to hide until....until you found him," Onara finished softly.  
  
"Onara---"  
  
"No, he got away!" she said firmly. "I know he did. And you found him. I know you found him." She gazed up at him, her eyes imploring him. "Please, Obi-Wan, tell me you found him"  
  
A lump formed in Obi-Wan's throat. "I did, Onara. I did find him."  
  
"Then where is he?" she cried. "If you found him, where is he?"  
  
Obi-Wan took both her hands. They were cold and trembled in his. He pulled them to his chest, pressing them against his heart.  
  
"He's gone, Onara," he said, his throat closing around the terrible words.  
  
"Gone? No, I don't believe you. You're lying!"  
  
"No, my love, I swear to you I'm not lying. Though the Ancients know I wish I were."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Onara, please, it's best you not know---"  
  
"How?" she repeated dully, her eyes locked onto his.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for moment. "He was shot," he finally said.  
  
The blood drained from Onara's face. Her hands shuddered in his, her body quaking.  
  
"Shot?" she repeated, shaking her head as if the concept of someone shooting her child was beyond all comprehension, all reason.  
  
"The physicians did all they could, Onara," Obi-Wan went on. "But---"  
  
He stopped because she was staring up at him with a wild, hopeful look in her eyes, and the moment he had feared and dreaded had finally come.  
  
"You brought him back, Obi-Wan. The same way you brought me back. I know you did. Tell me you did!"  
  
She gazed up at him, her face shining with this last desperate hope, a hope he was about to shatter. He swallowed thickly, a cold fist closing over his heart.  
  
"No, Onara, I did not."  
  
Onara stared at him. "You didn't? But, I don't understand. You did it before. You brought me back. I know you would have done no less for our child."  
  
Obi-Wan lowered his head, his body stiffening with agony. That is true, he thought, I should have done no less for our child. He raised his head. Onara's face was a blur through his tears.  
  
"I know you brought him back, Obi-Wan," she moaned, her eyes darkening with pain. "I know you did."  
  
He leaned closer, needing to see her face, even as the tears welled in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. He could no longer torture her like this. The truth, as horrific and painful as it was, was what she deserved, because it was all he had left to give her.  
  
"I did not bring him back, Onara. I could not."  
  
"You could not?" she whispered. "Why?"  
  
"Because I am a Jedi!" he cried out in a strangled, tortured voice, the words like ashes in his mouth. "I would have had to turn to the dark side of the Force to bring him back. And he would have borne that horror and that blasphemy with me."  
  
Onara stared at Obi-Wan for a stunned moment. Then she snatched her hands away, her face twisting with rage and grief.  
  
"Dark side of the Force? I don't care about the dark side of the Force! I just want my baby! I want my baby!" she screamed.  
  
Obi-Wan tried to take Onara's arms, but she twisted away from him. She got up from the bed, but, as her feet touched the floor, she was too weak to stand. Obi-Wan grabbed her as she fell, but she screamed at him.  
  
"Let me go! I have to find Ben! Gods, oh, gods!" she shrieked. "Why didn't you bring him back? Why didn't you bring him back?"  
  
Obi-Wan tried to take her in his arms, but she lashed out at him, beating his chest with her fists, her body twisting against his, but Obi-Wan was finally able to get his arms around her. He held her as tightly as he could, his tears mingling with hers.  
  
"Ben, Ben," Onara wailed. "Oh, my baby, my sweet little baby!"  
  
Then, with a final, heart-rending scream, Onara collapsed against Obi-Wan. He swept her up in his arms, laying her gently on the bed.  
  
He turned when he heard the door to the room open. Dr. Manu, Onara's physician, ran in. He went over to her, his face tentacles waving agitatedly. Onara was weeping hysterically. A nurse was with Dr. Manu and he quickly handed the physician a med-patch, which he applied to the side of Onara's neck.  
  
Obi-Wan watched, a dull, empty ache in his soul, as Onara quieted, the sedative the physician had given her taking effect. Her body stilled, and he heard her voice fading away as her eyes slowly closed.  
  
"Ben, darling, don't be afraid. Mama's here. Mama's here."  
  
Dr. Manu, once he was assured Onara was unconscious, looked over at Obi- Wan.  
  
"She'll rest now," he told him.  
  
"I had to tell her," Obi-Wan said, his voice like iron and stone, dead and cold. "I didn't want to. But she had to know. I would have spared her that, if I could. I should have spared her."  
  
Dr. Manu reached over and put one of his suctioned-fingered hands on Obi- Wan's shoulder.  
  
"You should get some rest, too, Master Jedi. She'll sleep for the rest of the night. Come back in the morning."  
  
"I shouldn't leave her," Obi-Wan said. "I left her once before, you see. And I shouldn't have. None of this would have happened if I had been less of a Jedi and more of a man, a father, a husband."  
  
Dr. Manu and the nurse exchanged a worried glance. "Please, Master Jedi," Dr. Manu said. "Go home. Get some rest. There's nothing more you can do for her tonight. When she awakens, she will need your strength for what lies ahead."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded slowly. He went over to the bed and, leaning down, kissed Onara's forehead.  
  
"I'll return tomorrow, my love," he whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him, but needing to say the words.  
  
He moved back from the bed. She will hate you, the dark, cold voice had said to him, just before Obi-Wan had made his choice and Ben's spirit had vanished into the Abyss.  
  
And I will love her, Obi-Wan replied to the echo of that voice. I will love her forever.  
  
Obi-Wan turned. He picked up his jacket and drew it on, but his movements were slow and mechanical, as if he were nothing more than some droid, all metal and circuits and wiring. He went towards the door, then looked back. Dr. Manu was conferring with the nurse, showing him something on a medpad attached to Onara's bed.  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated. He didn't want to leave her, but the physician was right. He should rest. Onara would need all his strength tomorrow, even if she no longer wanted it. But, he would offer it to her anyway. He would give her everything he had. Though that, he knew, would never be enough to compensate her for her loss. For his loss.  
  
He stumbled through the door, blinded by anguish and overcome by the weight of his pain and guilt. Then he felt someone grab his arm and steady him. He stopped and looked up into Anakin's blue eyes.  
  
"Anakin? I told you to go back to the Temple. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Waiting for you, Master," Anakin said softly. "Waiting to take you home."  
  
He put his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder and, at that moment, the crushing deluge of grief Obi-Wan had been holding back since that moment in the _Hall of Worlds_ was unleashed, and the Jedi Knight wept, tears unending, grief unceasing, pain unyielding. And Anakin held him as he cried.  
  
--------------  
  
Senator Gillom paced angrily across the room, his scarlet-red robe flapping behind him.  
  
"And you're absolutely certain there's no way we can get to him?" he snarled, his lipless mouth twisting with frustration.  
  
"No, Senator. He's being held at the Hall of Judgment. That place is as difficult to get in as the Jedi Temple."  
  
Gillom fisted his three-clawed hands. "The fool! The bloodthirsty fool! I told him not to harm the child. What kind of a monster would kill a child?"  
  
Ericc, Gillom's Bith aide, only shrugged his small shoulders, his lidless black eyes regarding the Senator with the same impassivity he'd displayed all morning. Gillom turned from him in disgust. He strode over to the window of his penthouse apartment, his four eyes blinking at the morning light streaming through it.  
  
"If he talks..." Gillom said, his back to Ericc.  
  
"He could implicate you, Senator."  
  
Gillom whirled around. "Exactly. And what do you think would happen to me if it's discovered that not only was I involved in this attack upon Senator Lenor, but that I had something to do with the murder of her son?"  
  
"It would mean the end of your career and, perhaps, prison," Ericc said in his low, even voice.  
  
"Exactly. Prison. And I have no wish to go to prison, Ericc. There must be a way we can get to him."  
  
Ericc shook his elongated, bald head. "There is no way. But, I did speak to my sources within the Hall of Judgment. Although Lursan has been arrested, it was based solely on Jedi Kenobi's allegation that Lursan was responsible for the deaths of the boy, the amusement complex attendant and the attack on Senator Lenor."  
  
Gillom's four eyes narrowed and he walked over to Ericc. "What are you saying?"  
  
"What I'm saying, Senator, is that Lursan's advocate, the one you so kindly hired for him---"  
  
"And the one you're certain can't be traced back to me?" Gillom interrupted.  
  
Erric nodded. "Have no fear, Senator. She can not be traced back to you. As I was saying, Lursan's advocate is arguing that there is no physical evidence nor witnesses linking Lursan to these attacks."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Without any physical evidence or witnesses, the only person tying you to Lursan, and Lursan to his attack on Senator Lenor and her son is her husband. Dynast Lenor."  
  
"What of Onara? She's still alive. She's a witness. She could say Lursan attacked her."  
  
"She is currently in no condition to speak to anyone, Senator, and from what I was able to find out from the hospital, will remain like that for quite some time. At least long enough for Lursan to be freed and leave Coruscant."  
  
"Has Dynast Lenor spoken to the authorities yet?"  
  
Ericc shook his large head. "He was under sedation all day yesterday. However, he is up and about and is scheduled to go to the Judicial Department later today."  
  
Gillom frowned as he stroked his chin with one clawed finger. "Blast it! How was I supposed to know he was Onara's husband. I thought he was one of Lursan's associates. We have to get to him before he can go to the Judicial Department."  
  
"Indeed, Senator."  
  
"What do you suggest?"  
  
"I'm having him watched, anticipating just such a need for action on our part. He's at the hospital now, visiting his wife. But, it would be possible to arrange for him to have, shall we say, an unfortunate accident."  
  
Gillom shook his head. "I don't want any more innocents harmed."  
  
"Not at the hospital. But, he will have to leave it at some point. An accident could be arranged then."  
  
Gillom stared at Ericc, then smiled. "Before he goes and speaks to the authorities?"  
  
"Most certainly, Senator."  
  
"Do it. But that's the last death I want on my hands, Ericc. After my term as Senator is up, I'm retiring and returning to my homeworld. I have enough money to live on comfortably for the rest of my life. And, with all that's happening, the Republic will not last long." Gillom stopped and gave Ericc a pointed look. "You would do well to think of your own future."  
  
Ericc's large eyes stared up at the Senator, as black and impassive as they'd been all the years he had served Gillom. "Oh, I have, Senator. I have."  
  
"What will happen to Lursan without the Dynast's statement?"  
  
"The charges against him will, most likely, be dismissed. Especially since the judge before which Lursan is scheduled to appear for his arraignment is one of your creatures."  
  
Gillom grinned, his wide, lipless mouth sliding up and over his sharp teeth, a sly look on his reptilian features.  
  
"Indeed he is, Ericc. Indeed he is."  
  
Gillom then released a breath, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "However, I suppose I shall have one more death on my hands. Can't have Lursan running about. He might talk."  
  
"That is quite possible, but perhaps you should clear that with Count Dooku. He was the one who recommended Lursan to you. Perhaps he has further use for him and would not appreciate your interference in his plans."  
  
Gillom swallowed heavily at the mention of Count Dooku. Ericc was right. Dooku was not a man one wanted to cross.  
  
"You're right. I'll contact him. Meanwhile, you start working on arranging that little accident for Dynast Lenor. And, please, make sure any collateral damage is minor."  
  
"I will, Senator."  
  
The Bith bowed and left the penthouse. Gillom went over to his comm unit and quickly punched in the heavily shielded code that Dooku had given him if he ever needed to contact him. It took some minutes for the transmission to go through, but, finally, Dooku's aristocratic features formed before him.  
  
"What is it, Gillom?" Dooku said, his accented voice cold.  
  
Gillom cleared his throat nervously. "You've heard what happened."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I didn't want the child harmed. I swear. I tried to contact Lursan, tell him not to go through with it because I'd decided I didn't want Senator Lenor dead."  
  
"And as a result played your hand. Now the attack on Senator Lenor and the murder of her son can be traced back to you. Pity."  
  
Gillom leaned forward. "Not if Dynast Lenor is killed before he can reveal to the authorities it was me he spoke to."  
  
Dooku arched a heavy, white brow. "But from what I've learned, Master Kenobi knows you were involved, Senator. He was too distraught to reveal that information to the authorities as of yet, but will soon enough. Are you going to have him killed too?"  
  
Gillom shook his head. The last thing he needed was to try and have a Jedi killed.  
  
"Without Dynast Lenor's statement, anything Kenobi says can be discredited," he told Dooku.  
  
"Jedi do not lie, Senator Gillom. Or at least that is the myth the Jedi Order seeks to perpetuate. No one will believe that Master Kenobi made up a story about your involvement."  
  
"They will if it's revealed he broke one of the Jedi Order's tenets. That he had a child with a woman who was not his wife. And a married woman at that.  
  
"The child was conceived before Onara married Dynast Lenor."  
  
"Ah, but my aide did some checking. Onara was married at the time of the conception. To her husband's uncle."  
  
"The ceremony Kenobi engaged in with her that brought about the conception was fully sanctioned by Ahjane law."  
  
Gillom smiled. "But that's not what people here on Coruscant will hear once I leak that information to the news. I have people at the Holonet who owe me favors. Once I'm done, all that people will know is Master Kenobi had an affair with a married woman. That out of that affair a child was conceived, in violation of his oath to the Jedi Order. That it is only his grief over that child's death, committed by some yet to be found madman, that is compelling him to make such wild and clearly unsubstantiated statements regarding Lursan's involvement. And, if Lursan is absolved, I am safe. Really, Count Dooku, don't you think most reasonable beings would find it quite easy to believe that a man who sleeps with another's man wife is also capable of lying. Even if he is a Jedi."  
  
Dooku stared at Gillom for a long moment, those dark, penetrating eyes seeming to peer into his soul. Gillom stirred uncomfortably under that dark gaze.  
  
"Kenobi's statement regarding your involvement with Lursan will be unsubstantiated." Dooku finally said.  
  
Gillom nodded eagerly, "Because Dynast Lenor will be no longer be around to substantiate it."  
  
"It appears you have this all worked out, Gillom. What do you want of me?"  
  
"Lursan. Once he's free, I want to get rid of him too."  
  
"No."  
  
Gillom's four eyes widened. "No? Why not? He's a liability to me too. He could talk."  
  
"I still may have use for him."  
  
Gillom frowned. "I won't let him destroy my career, or have me sent to prison."  
  
"Don't worry, Senator. If it should come to that, I will take care of him myself. But for now, do nothing concerning Lursan."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
Dooku nodded, then cut the transmission. Gillom released a heavy breath. His senatorial term was up next year, and he would be glad when it was. Politics had gotten much too complicated of late.  
  
To be continued.... 


	36. Part ThirtySix

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Six  
  
-------------  
  
Obi-Wan awoke and, for a moment, as he opened his eyes and the ceiling of his quarters in the Jedi Temple focused into view, it felt like the beginning of any other day.  
  
And then he remembered.  
  
Grief crushed his chest like a boulder. He drew in a ragged, sobbing breath. Sleep was nothing but a curse to him now, his throat closing with pain. Slumber brought the peace of oblivion, but upon awakening, it deserted you and you were once again conscious, and faced with the awareness that living was almost too painful to bear.  
  
His son was dead, and the woman he loved now hated him. Never had Obi-Wan felt such despair, such desolation of the spirit. But, he rose from his bed and went about his daily routine of preparing for the day, his movements perfunctory and precise, fearful that if he deviated one iota from his daily habits he would collapse into madness.  
  
Once he was dressed in his extra set of Jedi clothing, he hung Dalan's clothes in a closet. He would return them and get his own clothes back later. He was still a Jedi, even if he had closed himself off from the Force.  
  
As he went into the front area, he stopped. Pain pierced him, sharp and deep. The light from the window was shining on the picture Ben had drawn for him, the one Obi-Wan had hung up on the wall. He walked over to it. He took it down, staring at the childlike drawing, his eyes reading over and over Ben's innocent words.  
  
Tears filled Obi-Wan's eyes and he held the picture tight to his chest. He then put the picture back on the wall. No more tears, he told himself. For Onara' sake he needed to be strong. She had need of him. Even if she could no longer find it in her heart to look upon him.  
  
He headed towards the door, then noted the message light on his comm unit blinking. He activated it. The message was from Yoda, asking Obi-Wan to meet with him that morning. Obi-Wan erased it. He would meet with Yoda later.  
  
His first priority was Onara. Nothing mattered at the moment but her and, if truth be told, he wasn't ready to face the Jedi Master just yet. He wasn't sure he could trust what he would say or do. He sent Anakin a brief text message, informing him he was going to the hospital to visit Onara and would see him later.  
  
Leaving his quarters and making his way towards the entrance of the Temple, Obi-Wan could not help but notice the other Jedi in the hall stealing glances at him. Most were curious looks, but a few were full of sadness and sympathy.  
  
Obi-Wan did not stop to talk to anyone, however, but he did nod at those who passed by. Though he could not sense what any of them were feeling through the Force, as he was closed to it, he was sure most, if not all, had heard what had happened yesterday to Onara and Ben. And most, if not all, knew of his connection to them.  
  
But, Obi-Wan had no wish to talk to anyone and was relieved when he finally exited and walked out into the bright morning air. The world beyond the Temple bustled about him, people hurrying past in pursuit of their own affairs, speeders and transports whizzing overhead. It all seemed so normal. And it was for those who were lucky enough not to be him. Walking some distance from the Temple, he took a lift to a air-bus terminal and boarded one that would take him to the hospital.  
  
------------  
  
As Obi-Wan walked down the hall towards Onara's room, he saw Dalan standing outside it, talking to Onara's physician, Dr. Manu. As he drew nearer, both turned at his approach.  
  
"Master Kenobi," Dalan said, as he took Obi-Wan's arm.  
  
The Dynast looked much better than he had yesterday. He had shaved, his eyes were no longer bloodshot, and he was as Obi-Wan had first seen him back on Ahjane when he and Onara were pledged to marry. A tall, handsome man with an imposing presence.  
  
"Dynast Lenor. You are well?"  
  
"I feel much better physically, but..." Dalan lowered his head. Obi-Wan took his arm and squeezed it. The Dynast looked back at him.  
  
"I want to thank you, Master Kenobi. For all that you've done. I know you did your best to protect Onara and Ben. And I am grateful for that. And I'm also grateful for what you did for me. I don't know if I would have made it through yesterday without your strength."  
  
"We both love her, Dynast Lenor. And we both loved Ben."  
  
Dalan stared at Obi-Wan for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, that is true. If only I could have accepted that and not let it drive me mad with jealously."  
  
"You mustn't blame yourself for what Lursan did. You had no part in that. He acted on his own."  
  
Dalan frowned. "I'm not so sure about that, but I still don't understand why he would want to harm them"  
  
"Was there any connection that you know of between him and Onara?"  
  
"No, none at all. He hadn't even met Onara until we came to Coruscant. As for me, I had heard of him before we met. He's a well-known businessman on Ahjane. But, I'd had no dealings with him prior to that."  
  
Obi-Wan thought for a moment. "Perhaps Onara's father, K'lia. Might Lursan have known him?"  
  
"I'm not sure, but I don't think so."  
  
"Lady Tsara then?"  
  
Dalan frowned at the mention of Onara's grandmother. "Who knows what shady dealings that woman might have been involved in or who she might have crossed. No, I'm sorry, Master Kenobi. I don't know of any connection between Lursan and Onara. Only he can tell us. And I fully intend to find out why he did what he did when I go the Hall of Judgment to give my statement to the authorities. Once that's done, I shall then contact the Assembly and request the extradition of Lursan to Ahjane."  
  
The Dynast moved closer to Obi-Wan, his dark blue eyes suddenly cold. "We may be a recent admission to the Republic, and we are well aware of its stance on the death penalty, but on Ahjane, once Lursan is found guilty, he will be put to death. Slowly and methodically. I promise you that."  
  
Obi-Wan said nothing. Though a part of him was repulsed at the idea of any government having the power to take a life since, as a Jedi, he had been taught that all life was sacred, another part of him, the part that had been born in the __Hall of Worlds__ was pleased at the prospect of Lursan's death. Then he noted Dr. Manu staring at him.  
  
"How is Onara?" Obi-Wan asked him.  
  
Dr. Manu and Dalan exchanged a worried glance. Obi-Wan's heart lurched. "She's not----"  
  
"No, Master Jedi," Dr. Manu quickly assured him. "She's still alive, but..."  
  
He stopped and looked over at Dalan. The Dynast reached over and took Obi- Wan's arm. "Perhaps it's best if you see for yourself."  
  
He opened the door and led Obi-Wan into Onara's room, Dr. Manu behind them. Onara was lying on the bed, but Obi-Wan noted there was now a machine hooked up to her arm. A pale gold liquid flowed from the machine through a tube and into her arm. He moved closer. Onara's eyes were open, but stared sightlessly up at the ceiling. Obi-Wan reached over and gently touched her face, but she did not stir. He whirled around.  
  
"What's wrong with her."  
  
"It's called yanol," Dalan told him. "The grief unyielding."  
  
"Yanol?"  
  
Dalan nodded as he moved to the other side of Onara's bed and stroked her dark hair.  
  
"It sometimes happen among our people," he explained. "When a grief is too much to bear, some of us enter the yanol. It's a spiritual state within which the soul can hide until it is once again able to face the pain." Dalan slowly shook his head. "All mothers are close to their children, but the love Onara had for Ben was unlike any I'd ever witnessed. It was almost as if they were one soul."  
  
He stopped and looked over at Obi-Wan. "A great deal of that love had much to do with you, Master Kenobi. I could not bring myself to accept it, but I knew the truth of it. She loves you very much."  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. No longer, he thought. She would never forgive him for what he'd done. He opened his eyes and noted Dalan staring at him.  
  
"How long does this yanol last?" he asked.  
  
Dalan drew his gaze away from Obi-Wan and looked down at Onara. "Usually only a few days, but it has been known to last for weeks. I heard of a man in my province who remained in the yanol for over a year after he had lost his entire family in a fire."  
  
Obi-Wan's blood ran cold. He could not imagine Onara lying in such a state for even a day, much less a year. It was a living death. But it was he who had done this to her. He had not only told her their son was dead, but that he had allowed his spirit to fall into the Abyss because he had been more of a Jedi than a father. The pain of that betrayal, coupled with the loss of her only child was, apparently, more than she'd been able to endure.  
  
"What will happen to her?" he asked  
  
"Dr. Manu says she can be released later this week," Dalan replied. "I've made arrangements to take her and Ben..." he paused, his throat full of tears,"....back to Ahjane. I contacted the Assembly and they will send someone to take over as Senator until new elections are held."  
  
"Is there no way we can bring her out of it?" Obi-Wan asked Dr. Manu.  
  
Dr. Manu shook his head, his face tentacles flailing. "After Dynast Lenor told me what was afflicting her, I did some research on it. In all the cases reported on Ahjane, no medical treatment was successful in alleviating this condition."  
  
"They have to come out of it themselves," Dalan added.  
  
"And do they?" Obi-Wan asked, fearing the answer.  
  
"Most do," Dalan replied. "But, some do not."  
  
"What of her physical state?"  
  
"She'll need constant care," Dr. Manu answered. "She'll have to be given nutrients intravenously, her arms and legs exercised, the standard care given to those suffering from comas. As far as I can determine, however, there should be no permanent physiological damage once she comes out of it, but in her current psychological state, she will be incapable of caring for herself."  
  
"I will take care of her," Dalan murmured, his hand gently cupping her face. "I don't care what it costs or what I have to give up."  
  
Obi-Wan walked around the bed and stood next to Dalan. He took the Dynast's hand and placed it over Onara's where it lay on the bed.  
  
"I know you will, Dalan. And, please, don't despair. Onara will come back to you and, I think, you may find things will be different between the two of you."  
  
Dalan shook his head as he gazed down at Onara. "I don't care if things aren't different between us, Obi-Wan. I don't care if she never loves me. I can live with that now. She's my wife, and I love her and, for as long as I live, I'll take care of her. I'll spend my life making amends for what part I played in this horror."  
  
Obi-Wan squeezed Dalan's hand where it lay over Onara's. Then he looked over at her, drinking in her face, her presence, wishing he'd had a chance to say goodbye. He glanced at Dalan, desperately trying to hide his tears.  
  
"May I?" he asked.  
  
Dalan nodded and moved away from the bed. Obi-Wan leaned over and gently kissed Onara. Her lips were warm and soft, but she did not return his kiss, and, even if she were conscious, he suspected she would not want to. He pressed his lips against hers for a moment longer, then moved away and, turning, left the room.  
  
Once outside, Obi-Wan stood for moment. It's for the best, he told himself, even as fiery tendrils of pain lanced through him. She had no further need of him. Dalan would take care of her. He was her husband, after all, and she his wife.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He had lost her; as he'd lost Ben, as he'd lost any chance for a different kind of life, as he'd lost everything, for he wasn't entirely sure he could return to the life he'd had before he met Onara.  
  
He opened his eyes and looked back at the door to her room. __Farewell, my love__. He pulled the hood of his robe over his head and left the hospital.  
  
-----------  
  
After leaving the hospital, Obi-Wan spent the rest of the day alone. He walked among Coruscant's towering transparisteel and duracrete skyscrapers, tread down its broad, straight avenues and its tiny, twisting streets, strode past hovels and palaces, wandered through entertainment districts, housing boroughs and mercantile zones.  
  
And, as he walked, he soon became one of the faceless billions who lived, worked and died on this teeming planet-wide metropolis, center of the Galactic Republic to which, as a member of the Jedi Order, he had sworn his allegiance and his life to.  
  
At one point during his walk it rained, for occasionally storms would coalesce out of the water evaporating from the millions of exhaust vents on the rooftops. Raindrops pattered on his hood as he trudged through the sudden downpour, a staccato accompaniment to the sluggish beating of his heart.  
  
During his walkabout he even traversed the lower levels, moving through the neon-lit darkness, only dimly aware of the sea of faces that streamed past him. Occasionally someone would approach him, a cut-thief, a dolly-girl, a deathstick dealer, but noting the lightsaber glinting on his belt and the warning blaze of those blue-gray eyes, they hurriedly scurried away.  
  
Finally, having worn himself out both in body and spirit, Obi-Wan returned to the Jedi Temple. It was now early evening, the setting sun tinting the purpling sky with saffron and citrus and gold. He walked through the huge Temple doors, built, so it was rumored, to humble all Jedi upon entering and to remind them that no matter how gifted or powerful they were with the Force, before its absolute grandeur and glory they were as motes of dust in the air. Nothing and everything.  
  
Hood over his head, raindrops shimmering on the soft, brown wool and his boots, wet from the rain, squeaking against the polished floor, Obi-Wan made his way through the spacious main atrium. He was heading to his quarters, wanting to mediate before going to see Yoda, but he stopped when he heard his name being called. He turned and was surprised to see Aayla Secura running towards him.  
  
Aalya was a Jedi, one of the rare blue-skinned Rutian Twi'leks. Beautiful, sensual and clad in what Obi-Wan still considered an immodest outfit for a Jedi uniform, since it left both her slender shoulders and taut midriff bare, she had once been padawan to Quinlan Vos. While on a mission some years ago, both had been stripped of their memories, but had recovered; Aayla having retrieved her memories from where they had been stored in her lekku, Quinlan through retraining. Aayla had recently become a Jedi Knight, and she and Anakin had also become something of friends.  
  
"Master Kenobi," she cried, her lovely blue eyes wide. "We've been looking for you all day."  
  
"I've been out walking."  
  
"Then you haven't heard?"  
  
"Heard what?"  
  
"Dynast Lenor. He's dead."  
  
"What?" Obi-Wan cried. He grabbed Ayala by the arms. "Onara? Is she all right?"  
  
"Yes, she's at the hospital. It was an air traffic accident. Happened just after the Dynast left her. Both he and the air-taxi driver were killed. There are still some questions, but it looks as if a droid-operated air-van veered out of its designated traffic path and crashed into the taxi. When we heard, we tried to contact you."  
  
Obi-Wan released her arms. "I turned off my comlink."  
  
"We thought as much, Anakin and I. He wanted to go and look for you, but when we got the other news, he went to the hospital instead."  
  
"Other news?"  
  
Aalya nodded, her expression grim, her lekkus twitching along her slim back.  
  
"A few hours after Dynast Lenor's death, Lursan was released from the Hall of Judgment, the charges against him dismissed. Anakin, fearful he might try to finish what he'd started, went to the hospital to guard Senator Lenor. Sinja-Bau is with him. I remained here in case you came back."  
  
Obi-Wan turned and was about to run through the Temple doors, but he stopped when he heard Aayla's voice. He looked back at her.  
  
"May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi," she said softly.  
  
Obi-Wan stared at her, then nodded. He still could not bring himself to feel the Force, but he was thankful for her words. He turned and ran out of the Temple.  
  
----------  
  
"Master," Anakin cried as Obi-Wan approached him.  
  
His Padawan was standing outside Onara's room, his hand on his lightsaber, his black cloak draped around him. Even from down the hall, Obi-Wan had noted Anakin's stance, the alert focus and calm readiness of a Jedi prepared either for attack or defense. Pride surged through him. Perhaps, he thought, he had not totally failed. He knew he had trained Anakin well, just as had promised his master he would.  
  
"You've heard," Anakin said as Obi-Wan stopped in front of him.  
  
"Yes, both about Dalan and Lursan's release. Thank you for coming here to watch over Onara."  
  
"You don't have to thank me, Master. There was no way I was going to leave her unguarded with that monster running around loose. I contacted the Senate to see if they would send some of their Guards over to help protect her, but.." and Anakin's face twisted with disgust,"...I was told by some mealy-mouthed civil servant that since Onara was no longer a Senator, Dynast Lenor having put in a request to Ahjane for a replacement for her, there was nothing they could do."  
  
"It doesn't matter. We'll protect her. Where is Sinja-Bau?"  
  
Anakin gestured with his head at the door. Then he looked at Obi-Wan, his face draped in sorrow. "I'm sorry about what's happened to her, Master. And to Dalan. These are black days."  
  
"Yes, they are. But we must remain strong, in spite of them."  
  
He reached over and gave Anakin's arm a hard, reassuring squeeze, then went through the door and into Onara's room. Sinja-Bau rose from her chair as he entered. Obi-Wan was surprised to see she now wore the outfit of a Jedi Master Healer, a lightsaber hanging from a belt at her waist.  
  
But, before he could say a word, she walked over and put her arms around him. Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he returned her hug, drawing deeply from her strength and her warmth.  
  
"Will the darkness ever end?" she whispered.  
  
"I don't know," Obi-Wan answered, his heart filled with more sorrow than he could bear. "But we must hold on. We must remain strong for those who have need of us."  
  
Sinja-Bau pulled away and looked up at him, her blue-green eyes misty.  
  
"Yes, we must. But, Obi-Wan, poor Dalan. If only we could have been there for him and somehow prevented this. He was here when I came to see Onara. I had hurt him the other day, but he forgave me, and I saw he was once again the Dalan I remembered before Lursan came into our lives." She frowned. "It wasn't an accident, Obi-Wan. His death. It's too much of a coincidence."  
  
Obi-Wan agreed. "But, it couldn't have been Lursan. He was still in custody."  
  
"No, not Lursan, but someone connected to him."  
  
"Senator Gillom," Obi-Wan said, his voice grim. Sinja-Bau nodded.  
  
He moved away from her and over to Onara's bed. She was as he had left her that morning, but her eyes were now closed. He touched her cheek.  
  
"I can't bear to see her like this," he said in a low, pained voice. "But, now, with Dalan's death, perhaps it's best she remain in her world of twilight."  
  
Sinja-Bau moved next to him and put her hand on his arm as she gazed down at Onara.  
  
"You don't mean that, Obi-Wan. Onara is strong. When she comes back, she'll have a great of deal of healing to do, but she'll survive." Sinja-Bau looked over at him. "I tried to use my Force powers to help her, but there was nothing I could do. She will have to come out of this on her own. And she will, when she is ready. When she finally believes herself strong enough to face Ben's death."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. And my betrayal, he added silently. He reached over and took Onara's hand. So many losses she'd had to endure in such a short time. Her father, her son, now her husband, all gone. Then he thought of Lursan, and Obi-Wan knew in his heart that as long as he was free and alive, Onara would never be safe. He gently placed her hand on the bed and turned to Sinja-Bau.  
  
"Will you stay with her?"  
  
"Of course I will. But, where are you going?"  
  
"I have something I must do, but I'll return as soon as I can."  
  
He turned to leave, but Sinja-Bau grabbed his arm.  
  
"I will not gainsay what you are about to do, Obi-Wan. Although I have reaffirmed my vows to the Jedi Order, I too want Lursan to pay for what he has done. Ben was my light, my joy, and there is such a wound in my heart at his passing that I know it will never heal. But, before you act, my brother, search your soul and make certain the path you are about to take is the right one."  
  
Obi-Wan put his hand over Sinja-Bau's where it lay on his arm.  
  
"I suspect that the path I now take is one that was laid out for me the first time I laid eyes on Onara, clinging to her father's arm when he brought her to me for the blessing ceremony. But, I thank you for your concern." He gave her a small smile. "And welcome back, my sister."  
  
Sinja-Bau returned his smile. Obi-Wan leaned over and kissed her cheek. She blushed, then pulled away and sat back in her chair. With a final, parting glance at Onara, Obi-Wan left her room. Anakin turned as he walked through the door.  
  
"Anakin, remain here. I'll return as soon as I can."  
  
"Where are you going, Master?"  
  
"To take care of something."  
  
"Let me come with you. You shouldn't do this alone."  
  
Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin, one of his brows raised sharply. "And how is it that you know what I'm going to do, Padawan?"  
  
Anakin firmed his jaw, his blue eyes burning. "Because it's what I would do if I were you."  
  
"Perhaps," Obi-Wan replied. "But you are not me. Therefore, do as I have requested and remain here. Watch over Onara. Protect her as you have so ably done before."  
  
"Master, please---."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I must do this alone, Padawan. Understand that and accept it."  
  
Anakin lowered his head, nodding as he did so. "I understand, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan took his arm, gripping it warmly. Then he turned, his robe whipping about him as he strode down the hall, his boots ringing on the floor.  
  
Anakin watched him leave, a worried look in his eyes. Then, setting his face in a determined expression, he snatched his comlink from his belt and activated it.  
  
"Aayla? It's Anakin. Could you come to the hospital right away?"  
  
-------------  
  
Obi-Wan stared up at the towering skycraper. He could just make out the night sky, the stars a scattering of silver pin pricks on its ebony backdrop, the lines of incessantly moving air-traffic like trails of jeweled light. Located in one of Coruscant's wealthier districts, the apartment building was, like all those surrounding it, built of silver transpairsteel and smoked duracrete.  
  
Making sure his lightsaber was hidden under his robe, Obi-Wan approached the entrance to the apartment building. He noted there were two scanner- eyes in the upper corners of the foyer, but they did not concern him. He could have used the Force to conceal himself, but he still could not bring himself to draw upon its power and, truthfully, he did not care if he was seen.  
  
He entered the lift and, using the personal information on Lursan he had obtained from the Hall of Judgment's computer files, punched in the number for the floor of his penthouse. There was no guarantee Lursan was even home, but Obi-Wan had a feeling he was.  
  
The lift stopped. Obi-Wan waited before the closed doors. Then, just as he was about to reach for his lightsaber to burn his way through them, they slid open. He peered into the darkened vestibule. Then, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt, went inside.  
  
To be continued... 


	37. Part ThirtySeven

Just wanted to say thanks again, everyone, for your kind words. I appreciate your taking the time to respond to my fic. I should say there's a good chance there will be a sequel to this fic, so keep your eye out for it! :)  
  
Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Seven  
  
-----------  
  
As Obi-Wan moved further into the dark apartment he saw the huge windows were unblinded, the lights from neighboring skycrapers glowing dimly through fog that had risen as evening had darkened into night.  
  
"I knew you would come. I've only just arrived myself. After my release, I stopped to pay a visit to a dear friend."  
  
Obi-Wan whirled around, his lightsaber raised before him, but still unlit.  
  
"Ah, the weapon of a Jedi," the voice said from the darkness. "I've never seen one before. Is that what you intend to kill me with?"  
  
Lursan moved out of the shadows of the room, Obi-Wan recognizing him from his photo in the Hall of Judgment files.  
  
"That is why you've come, isn't it?" Lursan went on as he drew closer, then stopped just a couple of meters from Obi-Wan. "To avenge the death of your son and the assault on your woman?"  
  
Obi-Wan swallowed, his fingers rubbing the knob that would activate the blade. All it would take was one swing, a mark of contact he'd done hundreds of time in practice, but rarely in battle.  
  
_Sai cha_ it was called in the ancient tongue. The words meaning "separate" and "head." _Sai cha_ was only used by Jedi when battle was at its more serious or deadly, or an opponent was considered extremely dangerous even to a fully trained Jedi. Lursan was dangerous, but he was no match for Obi- Wan. Therefore, what he could do, what he wanted to do, was tantamount to a cold-blooded execution.  
  
"How does it feel?" Lursan suddenly asked.  
  
Obi-Wan started at the question, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"How does what feel?" he rasped, his throat swelling with hatred the longer he looked upon the murderer of his son.  
  
"Does it feel as if some vital part of you, as essential and as crucial to your existence as your heart and or lungs had suddenly been ripped out of you?"  
  
Obi-Wan's grip around his lightsaber tightened. Lursan moved closer, his storm-gray eyes glittering in the darkness.  
  
"Or is it more like you're bleeding inside? As if there were tiny shards of glass moving through your veins, the pain so consuming, so encompassing, only the oblivion of death will ease it?"  
  
Obi-Wan drew in a deep, shuddering breath, because Lursan's words were an uncanny description of exactly of what he was feeling.  
  
"You killed my son!" he cried.  
  
"Yes, I did," Lursan said matter-of-factly. "Just as you killed mine."  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "What? I never----"  
  
"It wasn't you exactly. It was that apprentice of yours, Skywalker. But, I'm not one to quibble on formalities when it comes to revenge. You trained Skywalker, and, unlucky for you, he had no son I could take, therefore I took yours as remuneration for mine."  
  
Pain slashed through Obi-Wan at the careless manner with which Lursan spoke of Ben's murder, as if it had been nothing more than some inconsequential detail he had needed to take care of and, with no more effort it took to make a notation on an account-pad, had done so.  
  
Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber and the blade leapt forth, blue and bright in the darkness of the room. Lursan's eyes widened. Not with fear, Obi-Wan noted, but with an avid fascination as he stared at the blazing blade.  
  
"Beautiful," he murmured. "Truly an elegant weapon. I commend you, Master Kenobi. Not as random or clumsy as a blaster, is it? Much like a sword. Precise, accurate, straightforward. It must take great skill and concentration to wield it."  
  
Obi-Wan stared at Lursan, wondering if the man was not only a cold-blooded killer, but insane as well.  
  
"What did you mean when you said Anakin killed your son?"  
  
Lursan drew his gaze away from the lightsaber and smiled at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Oh, but of course. You don't know who I am, do you? You know me only as the business associate of that poor, dead fool, Dynast Lenor. Pity what happened to him, isn't it?"  
  
"Who are you?" Obi-Wan shouted. "Why did you kill my son? Why?"  
  
Lursan executed a short, courtly bow. "My name is Lursan, but I was once leader of the Red Tide."  
  
Shock thrummed through Obi-Wan. Red Tide. The professional assassins Lady Tsara had hired to kidnap Ben while Obi-Wan had been off on his search for Sinja-Bau. They had invaded the manor of Onara's father, killing him, along with Master Eo, Sinja-Bau's former padawan. But Anakin had thwarted their plan and rescued Ben. Obi-Wan now recalled that among the dead Red Tide there had been a youth. He was the one Anakin had killed.  
  
"I see you remember. Yes, Rhad was my son. My only son."  
  
"Your son was an assassin! A murderer. He killed Dynast K'lia, and the men with him killed a Jedi, tried to murder Onara and helped Lady Tsara kidnap my son. What happened to your son he brought upon himself. Anakin was only doing his duty."  
  
"Just as my son was doing his," Lursan countered, his gray eyes burning. Then he visibly collected himself, his self-complacent smile back on his face.  
  
Rage surged through Obi-Wan. He moved closer, his arms swinging back as he prepared to strike. "Your son was a killer, Lursan! Mine was innocent!"  
  
"Innocent?" Lursan cried. "There are no innocents! I have killed hundreds, Jedi. Hundreds! Men, women and children." Lursan moved closer, the blue glow of Obi-Wan's blade causing his face to look like demon out of the pits of hell.  
  
"There is no good or evil, no right or wrong. The only dichotomy that matters in this universe, Master Jedi, is life and death. Meat that is alive and meat that is dead. Now come, admit it. You came here not just to kill me, but to look into the eyes of the man who murdered your son. You wanted to see what kind of unholy creature would kill a child. Tell me? What do you see?"  
  
Obi-Wan stopped his swing, his muscles straining with the need to follow through. And then he saw himself refusing to turn to the dark side and letting Ben's spirit disappear into the Abyss. Letting his son die.  
  
With a strangled cry, Obi-Wan lowered his arms and deactivated his lightsaber. He stood, trembling, his heart beating wildly. He couldn't take a life in cold-blood, even a life as vile and loathsome as Lursan's. Not when he was still too much of a Jedi. Not when he was as guilty of Ben's death as Lursan was.  
  
"Ah," he heard Lursan say softly. "I see. We are not so different after all, are we?"  
  
Obi-Wan clenched his hands around his lightsaber's hilt. "I'm nothing like you!"  
  
"Oh, but you are, Master Kenobi. You are. We're both men who must follow our true natures and do what we were born to do. I was born to kill and not concern myself with such things as what is right or what is wrong. You, however, were born to care about such things. However, in my nature lies strength, while in yours, I fear, lies weakness."  
  
Lursan stared at him for a moment, his gray eyes unreadable, then he suddenly smiled, and Obi-Wan knew what that smile meant.  
  
Clipping his lightsaber to his belt, he moved, quicksilver fast, and threw himself at Lursan. The two men fell to the floor, struggling. Lursan jerked a knife from underneath his tunic, but Obi-Wan grabbed his hand, twisted his wrist and slammed it against the floor, the knife skittering away.  
  
They rolled across the floor and crashed into a table. They continued to struggle, Lursan succeeding in hitting Obi-Wan hard across the face, but the Jedi soon had Lursan by the neck. Squeezing his hand, Obi-Wan crushed his throat, his fingers like iron.  
  
"Touch her again," he whispered fiercely. "Harm anyone she loves, do anything, no matter how insignificant or trivial, to bring grief to her heart, and I will kill you, Lursan. Understand? Without hesitation and without any further consideration as to what's right or what's wrong. Tonight I spare your life, but come within a parsec of Onara and I will not spare it again."  
  
Obi-Wan kept his grip around Lursan's throat, felt the frantic pulse of the man's heart beneath his fingers, saw the life dimming in his wild, bulging eyes. And, for a moment, as he saw in his mind Ben's smiling, wide-eyed face, and the emptiness in Onara's as she floated within her _yanol_, he was once again tempted to take Lursan's life, not cleanly with a lightsaber but savagely, brutally, watching with thick satisfaction as Lursan slowly died, gasping, choking, strangling for breath.  
  
But he did not. He released Lursan and rose from the floor, staring down at him as he drew in harsh, wheezing gasps for air. Then, turning quickly, Obi- Wan left the penthouse. He entered the lift, gingerly touching the bruise on his face and, as it took him down to the ground floor, wondered would he come to regret having left Lursan alive.  
  
He did not know, but he could not yet give up what he had spent his entire life becoming. A Jedi. However, if anything were to happen to Onara because of his decision this night, he did not think he could live with himself.  
  
-----------  
  
Lursan slowly stood, his legs unsteady. His throat burned as he struggled to draw in another tortured breath. Fool! If the Jedi truly believed he was not going to complete his revenge against him and his apprentice, he was delusional. Onara was still alive, therefore, Lursan's business on Coruscant was not yet complete.  
  
He made his way towards the 'fresher to find something for the bruises about his throat. Then he stopped, having heard something in the darkness behind him; a sharp snap, a hiss, followed by a low thrumming.  
  
He whirled around and, before his head flew from his shoulders and landed on the floor, the last thing he saw was a shadowed figure and a swath of light in the darkness.  
  
-----------  
  
Obi-Wan wearily made his way back to the hospital. But, as he walked down the hall towards Onara's room, he saw, instead of Anakin, Aayla standing in front of her door.  
  
"Aayla, what are you doing here? Where's Anakin?"  
  
"He asked me to come and watch over Onara. He said he had something important to do."  
  
Obi-Wan frowned. Anakin was often rash and had disobeyed Obi-Wan on more than one occasion, but he knew he would never have abandoned Onara unless... He stopped and looked over at Aayla who was watching him closely. Obi-Wan quickly composed his face.  
  
"Thank you, Aayla, for taking time from your duties to watch over Onara."  
  
"It's the least I can do, Master Kenobi. You and I don't know each other that well, but Anakin always speaks highly of you. And, also," she shrugged and suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I know what it's like to care deeply for someone and, yet, not be able to be with them. Or tell them," she finished softly.  
  
Obi-Wan tilted his head, wondering what secrets Aayla carried in her heart. But, before he could dwell on it further, the door to Onara's room opened. Sinja-Bau looked out.  
  
"Obi-Wan, I thought I heard your voice."  
  
"Onara? How is she?"  
  
"Her condition hasn't changed, I'm afraid. Dr. Manu was in to see her. He says she might be able to go home sooner. With Dalan's death, however---" Then she stopped and, reaching up, touched his face.  
  
Obi-Wan let her examine the bruise, but hoped she wouldn't question him about it. "I'll take care of the arrangements to transport her home."  
  
Sinja-Bau lowered her hand from his face, her blue-green eyes full of concern. "And I'll give you whatever assistance you need."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "Did Anakin say anything to you when he left?"  
  
Sinja-Bau shook her head. "He just let me know that Aayla was here and he'd return as soon as he could."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed. "I do hope he hasn't gone off and done something rash."  
  
Sinja-Bau moved closer and put her hand on Obi-Wan's arm. "What about you, Obi-Wan? Are you all right?"  
  
Obi-Wan was about to answer her, but was interrupted by the sound of boots marching down the hall. He turned and saw a squad of Judicial Department officers, heavily armed, walking towards them.  
  
"Jedi Master Kenobi?"  
  
Obi-Wan moved away from Sinja-Bau. "Yes?"  
  
The man in front, who wore the rank of lieutenant, looked uneasy as he stopped in front of Obi-Wan, his men arrayed behind him, their heavy-duty blasters now drawn. His brown eyes moved nervously from Obi-Wan to Aayla to Sinja-Bau.  
  
"I'm sorry, Master Kenobi, but you have to come with us."  
  
"Why? What for?"  
  
The lieutenant cleared his throat, looking even more uncomfortable.  
  
"You're under arrest. For the murder of Lursan, citizen of Ahjane."  
  
To be continued.... 


	38. Part ThirtyEight

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Eight  
  
-----------  
  
"But he confessed!"  
  
"Yes, Master Oppo, we are all quite aware Obi-Wan confessed to Lursan's murder. As if we could forget it with your constantly reminding us of it."  
  
Oppo glared at Ki-Adi Mundi, but the Cerean only gazed calmly back at him. Yoda, who had been listening quietly to the debate that had been raging in the chamber regarding Obi-Wan's fate, a debate which had split the Council cleanly down the middle, sighed audibly.  
  
Although it was a small sound, it was noted by all the Council members. Each one of them looked over at him, waiting to hear what he had to contribute to the discussion, but Yoda remained silent, only exchanging a glance with Windu who sat next to him.  
  
Oppo adjusted his robe about his serpentine body. "As I was saying, since Master Kenobi confessed to the murder, I demand we cease this pointless discussion and vote."  
  
"For expulsion?" Shaak Ti asked in her low, quiet voice.  
  
Oppo visibly bristled. "Of course. It's clear what needs to be done. Master Kenobi violated one of the Order's most sacred tenets. He took the law into his own hands. He killed, not in the heat of battle, not in self-defense or defense of another, but in cold-blood, and, worst of all, he admitted to killing Lursan as revenge for the death of his son. What more needs to be examined regarding the situation?"  
  
"There's a great deal more that needs to be examined, Master Oppo," Ki-Adi replied. "First, we have to take into consideration that the criminal charges of murder against Obi-Wan have been dropped."  
  
Oppo shook his head. "Irrelevant. He was under Republic jurisdiction then. What they chose to do with him is of no concern to us. Master Kenobi is now under our jurisdiction."  
  
"I don't disagree with you," Ki-Adi said, "but we can not ignore the fact it was at the urging of the Ajhane Assembly and its new Senator that the criminal charges against Obi-Wan were dropped. Having learned the true identity of Lursan, as far as the people of Ahjane are concerned, Obi-Wan is a hero and deserves a medal for having executed a notorious assassin, wanted for the deaths of hundreds on their world."  
  
"I know that," Oppo said testily.  
  
Yoda could see it still rankled the Thisspian Jedi that Obi-Wan had been freed from the Hall of Judgment after Senator Nyzeill, newly arrived from Ahjane to take Onara's place, had vigorously and doggedly demanded his release.  
  
As leader of the Red Tide, Lursan's death had not been mourned on Ahjane, but celebrated, and once it was learned he had also been responsible for the death of Onara's son, the people of Ahjane, who dearly loved her, had expressed their support for Obi-Wan's release through thousands upon thousands of holo-mails and blip-messages. The Judicial Department, caving in to the groundswell of support that was also starting to grow on Coruscant, capitulated and released Obi-Wan.  
  
Although Lursan had been murdered on Coruscant he was, technically, a citizen of Ahjane. Since he had no living relatives who wanted to press charges against Obi-Wan, or at least none who dared show their face, and the Ahjane government had no wish to pursue such charges, Obi-Wan was released.  
  
But, upon his release he was quickly whisked away to the Temple. The Jedi had their own laws when it came to members of their Order, separate from those of the Republic. Obi-Wan had violated one of their most sacred tenets: the taking of a life for revenge. In addition, the Council could not ignore the fact that, upon his arrest, Obi-Wan had immediately confessed to the murder.  
  
"His having been cleared of the criminal charges," Oppo went on, "doesn't change a thing as far as this Council is concerned. Master Kenobi confessed, therefore he's guilty, therefore he should be expelled."  
  
"I'm still very much troubled by this confession of his."  
  
Yoda looked over at Adi Gallia. The beautiful Jedi, the organic tentacles of her Toloth headdress swaying across her shoulders, her exotic blue eyes thoughtful, looked over to where Oppo sat next to her.  
  
"What's so troubling about it?" Oppo asked.  
  
"As you know, before his death, Master Qui-Gon and I often worked together on missions. A number of those missions included Obi-Wan, along with my then padawan, Siri Tachi. I know Obi-Wan. This just doesn't sound like him."  
  
Oppo tilted his head at Adi. "Master Galia, that was back when Obi-Wan was himself still a padawan. Back before he met this woman and developed this clearly unstable passion for her. The Obi-Wan you knew might not have committed this murder, but the man he is today is perfectly capable of it."  
  
"And you're sure of that?"  
  
"Quite sure. Especially since he confessed."  
  
A raspy, filtered voice interrupted Adi and Oppo's conversation. "But what if Master Obi-Wan has confessed to something he didn't do?"  
  
Yoda glanced over at Plo Koon where he sat next to Mace, most of his face hidden behind black goggles and a forked mask, which he wore to protect himself from oxygen-rich atmospheres.  
  
"Confessed to something he didn't do?" Oppo shook his hairy head. "Why would he do such a ridiculous thing?"  
  
Plo Koon shrugged. "To protect someone, perhaps?"  
  
Yoda clenched his hands. He and Mace exchanged a troubled glance.  
  
"To protect whom, Master Plo Koon?" Mace asked in his basso voice.  
  
Again, Plo Koon shrugged, but Yoda suspected the Kel Dor Jedi was thinking the same thing he and Mace had thought the moment the news had reached them that Obi-Wan had been arrested and had quickly confessed to the murder. It was true Obi-Wan had fallen in love with a woman who had bore him a child. A woman who had been viciously attacked and her child brutally murdered by a man who had then been set free, no doubt due to the machinations of the now deceased Senator Gillom.  
  
Yoda grimaced as he recalled the senator. Another murder which, initially, some had thought Obi-Wan had also committed until the investigation into the killing proved it was Lursan who had, upon his release, gone to see the Senator and stabbed him to death.  
  
It was then subsequently revealed, in an interview given on the HoloNet by the Senator's Bith aide, that there had been a connection between Lursan and Gillom. The senator had hired Lursan to assassinate Senator Lenor. The Bith also revealed that Gillom was behind the death of Dynast Lenor and had planned to have Lursan killed. Lursan, apparently, suspecting such duplicity, had killed Gillom before he could carry out his plan.  
  
As for Obi-Wan, the attack on Onara and the murder of Ben in and of itself would be enough to drive any ordinary man to commit murder, Yoda reflected, but Obi-Wan was no ordinary man. He was a Jedi, and he wasn't just any Jedi. He was one of the Order's finest. It was inconceivable, therefore, that he would have taken Lursan's life, no matter how justified he might have been in doing so. But, there was the irrefutable fact he had confessed to the murder. However, if Obi-Wan hadn't killed Lursan, who had?  
  
Anakin had been questioned extensively by Yoda and Windu immediately upon Obi-Wan's arrest, but the two, wanting to discover the truth, had not told Anakin his master had confessed. Initially, the boy had been uncooperative, evading their questions and refusing to answer some of them, but the two Masters had persisted with their questioning until Anakin had finally told them what he'd done.  
  
He had left the hospital and followed his master, having "borrowed" a swoop bike to do so. He arrived, however, just as Obi-Wan was leaving the apartment building. Flying the swoop bike up to Lursan's penthouse, he had looked through the window and saw Lursan's body, his head lying a short distance away.  
  
Windu and Yoda, after their questioning of Anakin, had decided to keep the information he had provided to themselves. The boy had already expressed great anguish at having to give testimony to the Jedi Masters that clearly implicated Obi-Wan in Lursan's murder. He had insisted, however, there was no way Obi-Wan could have killed Lursan, but when asked if not his master then whom, Anakin had been unable to answer the question. He had seen no one else in the vicinity of the apartment building. Not wanting to compound Anakin's anguish, Windu and Yoda had chosen not to share his statements with the Judicial Department or the Council.  
  
And, in truth, there was no need to. The forensic evidence gathered by the Judicial Department indicated that the weapon used to behead Lursan was a lightsaber, and the footage from the scanner-eyes in the apartment building foyer had shown only one person entering and leaving the building at the time of Lursan's death. Obi-Wan.  
  
That evidence, along with Obi-Wan's confession, was enough to convict him, and, if not for the intervention of the Ahjane government, Obi-Wan would now be on his way to a prison planet, his Force powers stripped from him. Instead, he was cloistered in seclusion within the Temple as he awaited the Council's decision.  
  
Yoda closed his eyes, focusing inward. Anakin was not responsible for Lursan's death. That was clear. But Obi-Wan, not having had a chance to speak to Anakin since his arrest had, more than likely, assumed his apprentice had killed Lursan and had quickly confessed in order to protect him.  
  
At least that was the way Yoda saw it. Or, he told himself, perhaps Obi-Wan had indeed killed Lursan. But that was not likely. Therefore the mystery remained, and a very disturbing mystery it was, because if Obi-Wan had not killed Lursan and Anakin had not, then who had? Whoever it was, he or she owned a lightsaber. Which meant he or she was a Jedi, either past or present.  
  
"I don't think Master Obi-Wan is protecting anyone," Oppo asserted, pulling Yoda out of his troubled thoughts. "He killed Lursan because he has clearly lost his way as a Jedi. As I stated back when we voted to send him on the retreat to Bestine, these are troubled times for our Order. We can not afford to have its reputation tarnished by members of our Order running about renegade. Therefore I'm presently calling for, no, I'm demanding his expulsion."  
  
"Has Obi-Wan said anything else regarding Lursan's murder since his arrival at the Temple?" Master Billaba asked, her dark eyes glancing over at Yoda.  
  
"No more has he said," Yoda replied, finally breaking his silence. "Confessed to the murder he has. Stick with that story he continues. Meditates he now does, awaiting the decision of the Council. Whatever the Council decides, accept it he will."  
  
"Then let us decide," Oppo urged. "There's nothing more we need discuss. The sooner we take care of this, the sooner we can move on to matters of greater importance."  
  
"Of great importance this is," Yoda suddenly snapped, his green eyes flaring, his voice cutting through the chamber. "No ordinary Jedi is Master Obi-Wan. Strong with the Force he is. Noble and committed, wise and compassionate. His loss to our Order will be incalculable. Cavalier and rushed about this we must not be."  
  
Half of the Council members nodded in agreement, but they were the ones who, based upon their comments, did not want Obi-Wan expelled. The other half were in support of Obi-Wan's expulsion, and a few, especially Oppo, wanted his Force powers stripped from him, fearing he would be a danger if expelled in full possession of them.  
  
As the discussion wore on, Yoda decided he would abstain from the vote. Without him, there would be no chance of a deadlock. The last time Obi-Wan had come before the Council to be disciplined, both he and Mace had abstained, as was their rights as senior members of the Council. But, this time Yoda knew Mace would not abstain. Obi-Wan's fate would be decided, therefore, once and for all.  
  
-------  
  
"They won't even let you see him?"  
  
Anakin shook his head. He stood and went back to his pacing across the floor. He and Padmé were in the Jedi Temple, in a section of it reserved for visitors. Padmé had arrived sometime ago and had stayed with Anakin as he awaited the Council's decision regarding Obi-Wan. The meeting had been going on for most of the morning, which, as far as Anakin was concerned was not a good sign.  
  
"He has to remain in seclusion, to meditate," he told Padmé. "More than likely he's supposed to meditate on the fact that in a few hours he'll no longer be a Jedi."  
  
Padmé wrung her hands from where she sat on a low, blue-covered couch. "I just can't imagine Obi-Wan not being a Jedi. It's so much a part of him."  
  
"It is," Anakin said, nodding fiercely. "Very much so. Obi-Wan, more than any Jedi I know, has made his commitment to the Force not just some abstract concept, but a part of his life, of his very being. It's why I admire him so much. It's why I've tried so much to be like him. And why I keep failing."  
  
Padmé rose from the couch and went over to Anakin, stopping his frantic pacing. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Ani. You're still young. You have time to become the Jedi you were meant to be."  
  
"But how will I if Master Obi-Wan is expelled? I'll have to be assigned to another master. And I don't want another master! I want Obi-Wan. I need him." Anakin clenched his hands into fists. "I have such fears that without him I'll...."  
  
"You'll what, Anakin?"  
  
Anakin shook his head. "I don't know. Do something terrible, something horrible."  
  
"Come and sit down," Padmé urged, guiding him back to the couch. "You'll wear yourself out with all this pacing."  
  
Anakin let Padmé lead him over to the couch. The two sat, Padmé slipping her arm through his and leaning against his shoulder.  
  
"I think he wants to be expelled," Anakin said.  
  
"Why would you think that?"  
  
Anakin shrugged. "I know he confessed because he thought I killed Lursan. He was protecting me. But, he knows now that I didn't kill Lursan, yet he refuses to recant his confession."  
  
"How do you know this?"  
  
"Sinja-Bau told me. She's the only one who's been allowed to see him since he arrived at the Temple. He chose her as his advisor for the proceedings."  
  
Padmé frowned. "But, why would Obi-Wan want to be expelled from the Jedi Order?"  
  
"Because he's not the same person anymore. He's not drawing on the Force. I can feel it. I don't think he wants to be a Jedi, but I also don't think he can bring himself to quit either."  
  
Padmé nodded. Then she squeezed Anakin's arm. "This is all just conjecture on your part, Ani. You really don't know what Obi-Wan is thinking. And until you do you shouldn't worry yourself so."  
  
"But, that's not all, Padmé. That's not all that's bothering me."  
  
"What is it? Tell me."  
  
Anakin swallowed and looked down at the toes of his boots. "When I followed Master Obi-Wan to Lursan's, I knew he hadn't gone there to kill Lursan. It's just not in his nature. I think he went to warn Lursan to stay away from Onara. But, Lursan is...was a stone-cold killer, so I wanted to be sure Master Obi-Wan would be all right."  
  
"And?" Padmé asked, and Anakin was touched at how she sensed he was holding something back.  
  
"And," he went on, clearing his throat, "if someone hadn't already killed Lursan, I would have. He killed Ben, Padmé! Ben was only a baby. And as a result, Lursan has broken Onara's heart and mind and destroyed my master's faith in himself and the Force. That Sith-spawn didn't deserve to live!"  
  
Anakin lowered his head into his hands. Padme put her arms around him and held him. He didn't weep, but he couldn't help feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. Upon learning that Lursan was actually Red Tide and the boy he had killed was his son, although Anakin felt no guilt over Rhad's death, he did feel responsible for what that death had wrought for Obi-Wan and Onara. The death of their child. Sweet little Ben, whom Anakin had rescued when he was just a baby.  
  
Then he felt tears stinging his eyes, especially when he thought of the last time he had seen Ben, sitting with Obi-Wan on the floor in his master's quarters. He thought of the jealousy he had first felt, then the joy when he and Ben had sang together, and of the happiness that had been in Obi-Wan's eyes as he looked upon his son. Happiness that Anakin feared Obi-Wan would never feel again.  
  
Especially with Onara still locked within her _yanol_. She had been released from the hospital and was being cared for her at her apartment by Keria and a full-time nurse. Sinja-Bau was also often with her. She had made arrangements for Onara, along with Ben and Dalan's bodies, to be transported to Ahjane, but Anakin sensed she was waiting to see what happened with Obi-Wan before she finalized those arrangements.  
  
Anakin raised his head. He looked over at Padmé. He loved her so much, now more than ever. She had taken time away from her duties as Senator to be with him as much as she could. She had comforted him, listened to him, and not judged him. If Obi-Wan loved Onara even half as much as Anakin loved Padmé then he could well understand why his master had done all the things he'd done since meeting her.  
  
Padmé, noting him staring at her, smiled, and them, charmingly blushed, lowering her head. Anakin reached over and stroked her cheek, but, just as he did a young Padawan walked into the visitor's lounge. Anakin quickly lowered his hand and stood. The Padawan, a Mon Calamari who looked to be about nine, bowed in front of him.  
  
"Padawan Skywalker?" he said in his high-pitched, but throaty voice.  
  
"Yes?" Anakin said, willing himself not to smile because the Mon Calamari seemed somewhat awed to be in his presence.  
  
"You're needed at the Temple entrance."  
  
"I am?"  
  
The younger padawan nodded, his huge, copper-colored eyes blinking rapidly. "There's a...a...a altercation going on there. You've been asked to see to it."  
  
"An altercation?" Anakin glanced over at Padmé. She rose from the couch, a worried look on her face. "Why do they want me? Why don't they have security handle it?"  
  
The Mon Calamari boy raised his small shoulders. "I don't know, Padawan Skywalker. Master Kaidyn asked me to come and get you."  
  
Anakin adjusted his belt about his waist, and, his cloak flowing behind him, followed the padawan through the halls, Padmé at his side. As they drew nearer to the large entrance doors, Anakin saw that they were open. About six Jedi were inside the Temple, blocking the entrance.  
  
Outside the doors, standing in the brilliant noonday sun stood two beings. One was a tall, golden-furred Whiphid, his hairless face with its two large tusks looking calmly about him. Next to him stood a Codru-Ji female. She was angrily waving all four of her arms, her lovely, elfin face twisted with rage.  
  
"Ya blasted knotheads," she shouted. "I've come halfway across the galaxy, and I wants to see Master Kenobi, and I wants to see him now, or I swear, I'll blast the heads off the lot of ya, ya bathrobe wearing sons of tarls."  
  
-------------  
  
Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes. He had been meditating for the last hour. The room he was sequestered in was one of the Temple's most beautiful meditation chambers, full of incredibly textured tapestries, richly colored paintings, plants and a small fountain which tinkled gently. There was a meditation cushion, a table, a resting couch and a small fresher. All of his needs were seen to while he awaited the Council's decision. That is, all of his needs but one.  
  
His need to see Onara.  
  
He knew she was being well taken care of at her apartment. Sinja-Bau visited her often and, when she came to see him, gave Obi-Wan regular reports on her condition, but he wanted, no, he needed to be near her. To see her, to touch her, to take care of her. His need had become a fever, invading even his dreams.  
  
Even as Onara remained within her _yanol_ thoughts of her had filled Obi- Wan's mind. His arrest, his confession, his release and his subsequent sequestering at the Temple, where he awaited the Council's decision regarding his future as a Jedi, none of that mattered. Only she did.  
  
And Anakin. Obi-Wan had not seen Anakin since his arrest, but his Padawan was never far from his mind. Having learned from Sinja-Bau that Anakin had not killed Lursan, as Obi-Wan had feared, she had urged him to recant his confession, but by then he had no longer cared what happened to him. All he cared about was Onara.  
  
Reaching underneath his tunic, he pulled out the pendant K'lia, Onara's father, had given him when he'd first gone on his search for Sinja-Bau. Inside was a holographic image of Onara holding a newborn Ben. Before he had come to the meditation chamber, he had been allowed to stop off at his quarters and take what personal possessions he desired to have with him. All he had taken, besides a change of clothing, had been the pendant  
  
Obi-Wan pressed the bottom of the pendant and his heart both softened and bled as the image formed. He gazed at Onara, her beautiful face smiling as she looked lovingly down at their baby. His eyes welled with tears. He had lost them both, both of his beloveds, and with that thought he gently closed the pendant and slipped it beneath his tunic..  
  
Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and prepared himself to mediate again. He still refused to call upon the Force, so his meditations lacked the depth and insightfulness that had been a part of them before, but he just couldn't open himself to the Force. Not yet. The Force had betrayed him, had taken away his son and, as a result, had killed Onara's love for him. But, meditating had proved restful, so, placing his hands upon his thighs, he prepared himself to enter another one.  
  
However, before he could do so, the door to the chamber opened. Two Jedi, the same ones who had escorted him to the chamber, a Duros and a brown- skinned human female stood outside. The blue-skinned Duros, his large red eyes regarding Obi-Wan impassively, gestured towards him. "You must come with us."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded and, rising from the cushion went over to the couch. He put on his robe and clipped his lightsaber to his belt. Then, escorted by the two Jedi, he left the meditation chamber.  
  
Obi-Wan noted the glances of other Jedi in the halls as he passed, but he paid them no mind. Just like him, they would soon know what his fate was. However, it wasn't until he reached the corridor that would take him to the lift to the Council's chamber, that he felt something other than his overwhelming despondency. Standing next to Anakin and Padmé were two faces he thought never to see again.  
  
Zaka bowed solemnly as Obi-Wan approached. Obi-Wan stopped and returned the Whiphid's bow. The other face, which filled his heart with an inexplicable, but much welcome, joy was Auna's.  
  
Not caring if he was breaking protocol, Obi-Wan walked over to them. He sensed the agitation of his two Jedi escorts, but they did not stop him. They stood just a few feet away, however, and Obi-Wan knew they would not tolerate his detour for long.  
  
"Auna" Obi-Wan said, his voice full of warmth. "It's good to see you."  
  
"Master Kenobi," she cried, reaching over with all four hands to take his. "Me and Zaka, we heard what happened to your wee one." Tears filled her large eyes. "We came as soon as could, but when we got here, they tells us we can't see ya. But yar apprentice here," and she nodded over at Anakin, who gave her a small nod and a smile, "he got them knotheads to let us in. We're here for ya, Master Kenobi, me and Zaka. Just wanted ya to know that."  
  
"Thank you, Auna," Obi-Wan said squeezing her hands. Then he turned and looked over at Zaka. The big Whiphid leaned forward.  
  
"Zaka sorry he not be one to take head of beast who kill Je-di's little flower. But Zaka glad to hear killer of little flowers is dead."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded and, reaching over, put his hand over Zaka's big furry one. Then he felt one of his escorts touch his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry, Knight Kenobi, but we can not linger hear. The Council is waiting."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Obi-Wan moved away and looking over at Anakin and Padmé gave them both a smile. The two returned it, but Obi-Wan could see the worry in Anakin's eyes. He wanted to assure Anakin that everything would be all right, but he could not. He turned and, moving back between his escorts, entered the lift that would take him to the Council chamber.  
  
To be continued... 


	39. Part ThirtyNine

Stars in the Darkness - Part Thirty-Nine  
  
----------------  
  
It was evening at the Jedi Temple. The soft chiming of bells signaled the start of the meditation hour. The bells symbolized not just the onset of contemplation for the members of the Order, but a sense of continuity. They had rang within the Temple for thousands upon thousands of years, inviting countless Jedi down the ages to stop their everyday pursuits and turn within, reflecting quietly on themselves, their place within the universe and, of course, the Force.  
  
As the bells had done all the years Obi-Wan had spent here, first as an initiate, then as a Padawan and finally as a Jedi Knight, they never failed to precipitate a sense of peace within him. He released a long, lingering breath.  
  
He stood alone, his arms folded within his robe, on the observation platform located just outside the Council chamber. He watched as the sun set, the sky a riot of scarlet and platinum, sapphire and violet. Lines of air-traffic moving ceaselessly among the towering skyscrapers turned into jeweled rivers of light against that fiery backdrop.  
  
The last time he and his master had stood here had been while they awaited the Council's decision regarding Anakin's acceptance into the Order. Obi- Wan had chided Qui-Gon, warning him not to defy the Council again. But his master had given him that somewhat self-satisfied look and said, "I will do what I must, Obi-Wan."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded as he recalled those words. And I will do what I must, Master. I hope you will forgive me.  
  
He turned when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. Sinja-Bau, her platinum hair braided and wrapped about her head, walked towards him. He still found it difficult to see her back in her Jedi robes, but she wore them with a strength and dignity that was a far cry from the emaciated, wild-eyed mad woman he'd found on Toola. There was a calm serenity in those blue-green eyes, instead of the feral insanity they'd once possessed, and Obi-Wan, as he had these last few days, took comfort in her gentle presence.  
  
Sinja-Bau moved next to him, standing in the same spot Qui-Gon had stood all those years ago. For a moment, neither spoke as they watched the sun set. Then Sinja-Bau reached over and put her hand on Obi-Wan's where it lay on the balcony railing.  
  
"You're doing the right thing," she said.  
  
"Am I? I should have done as you advised me. I should have recanted my confession."  
  
Sinja-Bau tilted her head and looked up at him. "Why?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why should you have done something you did not want to do?"  
  
"Because, if not for my confession, I would not have been expelled from the Order."  
  
"And?" Sinja-Bau prodded him.  
  
"And I would still be a Jedi."  
  
"Is that what you want? To still be a Jedi?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked down into her eyes, then jerked his head away. He gripped the railing so tight his knuckles whitened. Sinja-Bau, feeling the tension in his hand, gently rubbed it.  
  
"I don't know," he said, his throat raw. He looked back at Sinja-Bau. "I can't leave her!"  
  
Sinja-Bau reached up and cupped his face. "I know," she said softly.  
  
"The decision was close," Obi-Wan said. "Six to five with one abstention. I could fight it, challenge it."  
  
"You could."  
  
Sinja-Bau lowered her hand and waited. Obi-Wan released a shuddering breath.  
  
"But I won't," he finally said. "I won't fight it, and I won't recant my confession. Anakin told me he thought I'd gone to Lursan's just to warn him. That's not true. I went to kill him. But, I couldn't. Whoever killed Lursan did what I wanted to do, what I should have done, but couldn't because I was a Jedi." Obi-Wan lowered his head. "When I told Lursan that if he ever touched Onara again I would kill him, I meant it." He raised his head and looked over at her, his blue-gray eyes haunted. "How can I remain a Jedi with such hate in my heart."  
  
"Not hate, Obi-Wan. No, the question is how can you remain a Jedi with such love in your heart. You love Onara, with a love so strong, so powerful, so passionate it has eclipsed everything that once had meaning for you. There is no shame in that. You're actually quite fortunate. Not many find such love, or have it returned."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Onara hates me."  
  
"And yet you are taking her back to Ahjane, choosing to stay with her."  
  
"Until she comes out of her _yanol_. Dalan is no longer here to care for her while she's in it. I owe her, and him, that much."  
  
"And when she comes out of it you will leave her?"  
  
"She will tell me to go."  
  
"Perhaps. But, what if she doesn't?"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head again. He could not imagine Onara wanting him near her after what he'd done.  
  
"You must stop blaming yourself for what happened with Ben."  
  
"I can't," Obi-Wan said, his heart swelling with pain.  
  
"You made the only choice you could based on who you are and what you were trained to be."  
  
"He was my son! I should have given up anything, everything, to save him."  
  
Sinja-Bau grabbed Obi-Wan's arms and turned him towards her. She shook him gently.  
  
"Listen to me, Obi-Wan, and think. You were taken as a baby from your family, brought to the Temple and told, from the moment you arrived, that the dark side of the Force is the path to damnation. It was fed to you along with your food, taught to you along with your lessons. How many times did you hear, did I hear, that once a Jedi starts down the dark path forever will it dominate his destiny?  
  
"Therefore, when confronted, at that most horrendous of moments, with a decision I do not envy your gentle soul having to face, you acted instinctively. Ben, bless his poor sweet spirit, had only been in your life for a short time. The Jedi Order had been in your life for all of it. You made the only decision you could based on what you had been trained from infancy by the Order to do. Not to turn to the dark side."  
  
"But he was my son," Obi-Wan whispered, understanding what Sinja-Bau was trying to tell him, but not wanting to.  
  
"Yes, he was. But he's gone now, Obi-Wan. You're still here, and so is Onara. You can't go on punishing yourself for something that was not your fault. Did you have a choice about being a Jedi? A real choice?" Sinja-Bau shook her head. "Most of us did not. You were tested and the Jedi Order made an offer to your parents to train you. They accepted and handed you over. You had nothing to say about it."  
  
"But I wanted to be a Jedi when I became aware of where I was, who I was. I trained hard to be one."  
  
"Of course you did, but, who knows what else you might have been if you had truly been given a choice."  
  
Obi-Wan slowly nodded. Yes, what might he have been. A husband and a father perhaps? Sinja-Bau released his arms and gazed solemnly up at him.  
  
"Now you have a choice, Obi-Wan. You can choose to stay and fight the Council's decision to expel you or you can take another path. But, I do know this. Your love for Onara will never die. Therefore, if you choose to try and stay within the Order, you will tear yourself apart wanting to be with her, yet also wanting to remain a Jedi."  
  
"But, what of my promise to Qui-Gon? To train Anakin?"  
  
Sinja-Bau sighed heavily. "Obi-Wan, I admired and respected Qui-Gon. Very much so. But he could be quite myopic when it came to his beliefs. The concerns and needs of others did not often factor into his decisions. With his dying breath he bound you to a fate that, again, was not of your choosing. Not all Jedi take on apprentices. Perhaps, if you had not made that promise to train Anakin you might have taken another path."  
  
She took his arm and gripped it hard. "You've given ten years of your life to Qui-Gon's last directive, Obi-Wan. Anakin is no longer a child. He's a man now, and he has his own destiny to fulfill. It's time for you to finally choose a life for yourself. Not the life the Order laid out for you the moment you were placed as a baby into their hands, nor the one Qui-Gon bound you to with his dying breath, but a life you choose willingly."  
  
Obi-Wan stared at Sinja-Bau for a long moment. He gently took her hand. "Then I choose Onara."  
  
Sinja-Bau smiled and, reaching up, kissed his cheek. "And don't grieve yet, Obi-Wan. There is still always hope. Onara loved Ben with all her heart, but this I know. She loved you just as much."  
  
Obi-Wan put his arms around Sinja-Bau and hugged her tight, his heart beating hard. He had chosen, and, for the first time in his life, the path he now followed was truly his own.  
  
-----------  
  
Anakin Skywalker closed his eyes for a moment as he stood in the dank Coruscant night. Having grown up on a desert planet, even after all the years he'd been away from Tatooine, the atmospheres of most planets still felt too damp too him. He looked around. He was outside the Temple, a few kilometers from it. The street he was standing on was of no particular importance, had no significance to him whatsoever.  
  
He had pulled the name of it, Jerrah Street, out of his mind when he had told Obi-Wan he had wanted to say goodbye to him away from the Temple. He had walked down this street countless times on his way to and from the Temple. Like many such streets there were shops, bistros, and places of trade and commerce; restaurants where he'd stopped to buy something to eat, shops he had been drawn to look at some object in their holographic windows.  
  
Tonight, the street was mostly empty since many of the shops depended on the commerce of those who worked in the office buildings surrounding it. But all the workers had gone home for the evening. The only places still open were a couple of late-night bistros, catering to those who, for whatever reason, did not wish to eat at home.  
  
Anakin could smell roasting tarl meat, baked red potatoes and the sweet smell of yarkel tortes. But he was not hungry. He was waiting. Waiting to say goodbye to the man who had been his master for the past ten years, but was now no longer. He adjusted the package he was holding under his arm, securing it against his side. Then he sighed.  
  
He had a new master now. Jedi Master Chereg Nygee. Nygee was a Nehaun. The Nehaun were hairless humanoids, tall and thin with pale yellow eyes and dark green skin. Nehaun society was very conservative and tradition bound, and Master Nygee was no exception. He believed strongly in a very strict adherence to the Jedi Code.  
  
Anakin had spent only a few minutes with Master Nygee, but he already didn't like him. Nygee had started out their meeting commenting on Anakin's attire. Noting that Anakin wore a synthetic leather surcoat instead of the traditional cloth one, and that his dark clothing made him stand out among his fellow Jedi, it had taken all of Anakin's willpower to remain silent, as was expected of a dutiful Padawan. But he could already see trouble ahead for him and Master Nygee.  
  
Anakin angrily scuffed the toe of his boot against the pavement. What was the Council thinking in assigning him to such a person? Then he stood straighter. Obi-Wan was walking towards him. Anakin swallowed, his throat tight. His master was no longer in his Jedi robe or clothes. He now wore a simple tunic, pants and a jacket. Anakin had been startled the first time he had seen Obi-Wan at the hospital the other day in Dalan's clothes. Now, he was heartbroken to see him dressed like any other man.  
  
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said smiling as he drew closer. "Have you been waiting long?"  
  
Anakin shook his head. He saw Obi-Wan was carrying a medium-sized travel case. After the official ceremony expelling him from the Order, which Anakin had refused to attend, Obi-Wan had been given enough time to pack what personal belongings he wanted to take with him.  
  
He stopped in front of Anakin and peered up at him. "Have you eaten? Are you hungry?"  
  
"No, Master. I mean..." He stopped, embarrassed. What was he supposed to call Obi-Wan now?  
  
"Why don't we go somewhere and sit down. I'm not hungry myself, but I could use a cup of something warm."  
  
Anakin nodded and followed Obi-Wan to one of the bistros. It was mostly empty, so the droid waiter immediately took them to a table. Obi-Wan ordered Ventolin Tea, and, at Obi-Wan's insistence, Anakin asked the droid to bring him a glass of blue milk. He didn't really want it, but it was the first thing that popped in his head.  
  
Once their drinks arrived, Anakin took a sip of his and was instantly transported back to his childhood. His mother had made him drink the nutrient-rich beverage for as long as he could remember. Obi-Wan sipped his tea, his luminous eyes on Anakin.  
  
"Anakin," he began, but Anakin quickly shook his head.  
  
"No, Master. Please, you don't have to say anything. I want you to go."  
  
"You do?"  
  
Anakin swallowed hard, keeping his eyes on Obi-Wan, hoping he couldn't see he was lying. He didn't want him to go. Not at all. But, he also knew what it was like to love someone, to want to be with her, to spend your every waking moment thinking of her, longing for her presence, yearning for her touch. Oh, yes, he knew.  
  
"Onara needs you," he said. "She's alone now. And you love her, Master. You've loved her since the night of the blessing ceremony. I've seen the look in your eyes, heard the sound in your voice whenever you saw her or spoke of her. She's in your soul, Master. Don't deny it."  
  
Obi-Wan gripped his cup. Then he nodded. "Yes, Anakin. She is. But, I don't want you to think that because I've chosen this path it is in any way a reflection on you. I've been very proud to be your master these last ten years. And I've been very proud of you."  
  
Anakin blinked, for his vision had suddenly grown misty. Once Obi-Wan's face was in focus again, he let himself speak.  
  
"I know, Master. And I've been honored, greatly honored, to have had you as my master." Then Anakin cursed himself, for his voice had begun to shake.  
  
Obi-Wan reached over and put his hand over his. "Master Nygee is a good Jedi. All of the padawans he's trained have gone on to become great Knights. You will too. I know you will."  
  
Anakin lifted his head. "If I do, it will only be because of your tutelage, Master. Not his."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled and squeezed his hand. Then he sat back, drawing his hand away. He picked up his cup and took another sip of his tea.  
  
"When do you leave?" Anakin asked.  
  
"In the morning," Obi-Wan answered, his blue-gray eyes watching Anakin carefully. "The Ahjane government has sent a star-yacht, equipped with a medical bay, to transport Onara and..." Obi-Wan stopped and lowered his cup. "Dalan and Ben."  
  
Anakin looked down at the table. He still found it hard to believe they were dead. So much had changed in such a short time. So much.  
  
"Keria is remaining on Coruscant," Obi-Wan remarked.  
  
Anakin looked up at him, startled. "She is?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "She's going to marry that young man of hers. The red- haired lad she met at Senator Rhygdon's party." Then he laughed softly, a somewhat embarrassed laugh. "She asked my permission to do so, after securing her parent's consent, of course. It seems, until Onara recovers, I've become some sort of de facto head of the household. Or at least in the eyes of people like Keria and Simtro."  
  
"Simtro?" Anakin remembered him. He had been Dynast K'lia's majordomo.  
  
"Yes, I've been in contact with him, making arrangements for Onara's return. And for the funerals." Obi-Wan stopped, his face twisting briefly with pain. "In addition," he went on, "he's asked my advice on a number of things regarding Onara and Dalan's affairs. With all that's happened, much needs to be decided regarding their joint provinces. I've advised him as best as I could."  
  
"Onara will be grateful for it once she recovers."  
  
Obi-Wan said nothing and Anakin knew he still expected her to hate him once she came out of her _yanol_.  
  
"Sinja-Bau told me that Auna and Zaka are going with you, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes lit up, and it warmed Anakin's heart to see it. "Yes, it appeared they've taken it upon themselves to become my bodyguards and nursemaids." His lips crinkled into a wry smile.  
  
Anakin returned his smile. "I like them. Especially Auna. She's a riot. I don't think the Temple has yet recovered from her visit."  
  
"I like them too, and though I did not ask them to do so, I'm glad they're coming with me."  
  
Anakin nodded. Then he remembered. He took the package he'd brought with him off his lap and put it on the table, pushing it slowly over to Obi-Wan.  
  
Obi-Wan stared down at it, his face awash with surprise. "You were able to get it all?"  
  
"Yes, Master. Everything you need is there."  
  
Obi-Wan laid his hands on the package, then he looked over at Anakin, his eyes brimming with gratitude. "Thank you, Padawan. Thank you so much."  
  
"You're welcome, Master." Anakin twisted his hands on the table. This was so hard. Then he felt Obi-Wan's hands on his.  
  
"I'm going to miss you too, Anakin. So very, very much."  
  
"I know, Master. But, you're doing the right thing. You really are. I don't believe Onara is going to hate you when she finally recovers. She still loves you. I know she does, and she's going to need you, just as much as you need her."  
  
Again, Obi-Wan said nothing. He drew his hands away and, taking the package, put it inside his travel case. Anakin glanced at the chrono on the wall of the bistro. He had to get back to the Temple. Obi-Wan followed his glance, then looked over at Anakin. The two rose from the table, then Obi- Wan reached over and drew Anakin into his arms, holding him tightly.  
  
"Goodbye, Anakin. May the Force be with you."  
  
"And with you, Master," Anakin replied, willing his tears not to fall, but unable to keep them from doing so.  
  
Obi-Wan held him for a long moment then, pulling quickly away, his face averted, he picked up his travel case and hurriedly left the bistro. Anakin stood for a moment, staring down at the floor where Obi-Wan had stood. Then, his head bowed, his black cape flowing like darkness behind him, he returned to the Jedi Temple.  
  
-------------  
  
Dooku fell to one knee before Sidious. He grimaced. He was not as young as he used to be. All this genuflecting was affecting his joints. But, Sidious expected it, and what Lord Sidious expected, Lord Sidious got. If not, one paid the consequences, which were never pleasant.  
  
"Rise, my apprentice," Sidious intoned.  
  
Dooku did so, gratefully. He adjusted his cloak about his long frame. Then he looked over to where Sidious sat on his black metal throne. For that's what it was. It also resembled, somewhat, the chair in Chancellor Palpatine's office.  
  
"You have done well," Sidious went on.  
  
"Thank you, Master."  
  
"Kenobi has been expelled from the Jedi Order. An unforeseen event, but not an unwelcome one."  
  
"Indeed, my Master."  
  
Sidious leaned closer, but the upper half of his face was still hidden by his black cowl, only his thin lips visible. "I still find it somewhat troubling, however, that you chose to kill Lursan without consulting me first."  
  
Dooku straightened his shoulders. He had expected this. "I understand, Master."  
  
"I'm not sure I approve of such initiative."  
  
"Lursan was becoming a liability. His reckless and brutal murder of Senator Gillom proved that. We had no further use for him."  
  
"So you went to his penthouse to wait for his return."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"But, before you could kill him, Master Kenobi showed up."  
  
Dooku nodded.  
  
Sidious tilted his head. "You could have killed them both."  
  
"I saw no reason to kill Obi-Wan at that moment."  
  
"You did not? Interesting. I wonder, Lord Tyrannus, if your feelings are quite clear regarding our plans."  
  
"They are, my Master. I just do not believe in killing for no reason."  
  
Sidious said nothing for a long moment. "Obi-Wan is still in possession of his Jedi powers."  
  
"The Council saw fit not to strip them from him."  
  
"Interesting," Sidious observed. "Considering that Master Kenobi confessed to such a cold-blooded killing, you would think the Council considered him a great danger."  
  
"We both know he confessed to something he did not do. Perhaps the Council knew it as well and, therefore, knew he was no real threat."  
  
"Yet they expelled him away."  
  
Dooku moved closer. "There are many on the Council and still more within the Jedi Order who sense the growing power of the dark side. The passions Obi-Wan had for his son and still has for his woman is something many of them do not understand. And what they do not understand frightens them. Frightened people do not act rationally. Even if they are Jedi."  
  
Sidious nodded. "Fear leads to anger."  
  
"Anger leads to hate," Dooku responded automatically.  
  
"And hate leads to the dark side," Sidious finished, cackling loudly.  
  
Dooku smiled thinly.  
  
"This Jedi, Master Nygee," Sidious said, once he'd stopped laughing "The one Skywalker has been assigned to. Do you know him?"  
  
Dooku nodded. "Nygee is a very powerful Jedi. He's also a strict constructionist when it comes to the Jedi Code. I've even heard it said he has openly criticized Obi-Wan and his behavior since meeting Senator Lenor."  
  
"Really? Skywalker will not like that." Sidious then grinned his death- heads smile.  
  
"No, he will not. He will chafe under Nygee's tutelage. Their master/apprentice relationship will be a stormy one."  
  
"Surely the Council knows this," Sidious said. "If so, why would they assign him to such a Jedi?"  
  
"Because they fear Anakin. They believe he's the Chosen One, but they are also troubled by him. He's arrogant, rash, but very powerful. They think Nygee will keep him in line since he's so strict."  
  
Sidious chuckled. He knew, as well as Dooku, that the Council had made a critical error assigning Skywalker to Nygee. An error that, in the long run, could also prove quite deadly.  
  
Leaning back, Sidious pursed his lips. "Kenobi is on his way to Ahjane with that comatose woman of his. For now, he is of no more concern to us. But, we shall also keep an eye on him." Sidious placed his hands on the arms of his black throne. "Now it is time to focus on our plans for our Grand Design. You may commence with the latest report from Kamino on the clone production schedule."  
  
Dooku rattled off the numbers, but a part of his mind was still on Obi-Wan. He may have willingly put himself into a position to be expelled from the Jedi Order so he could be with the woman he loved, but he was still a Jedi. He would always be a Jedi. Therefore, he could still be a danger to his and his master's plans. Yes, it would be wise to keep an eye on Obi-Wan.  
  
--------------  
  
Yoda sat in his chair in the Council chamber. All of the chairs had been removed but his. But he was not alone. Mace Windu stood, tall and silent, looking out the large windows at the night skyline of Coruscant.  
  
"Some rest you should get," Yoda said.  
  
Mace turned and looked at him. The lights were low in the chamber, so all Yoda could see were the Jedi Master's dark eyes staring piercingly at him.  
  
"Rest?" Mace scoffed softly. He turned back to the window. "How can one rest on a night such as this."  
  
"Like you, miss him already I do."  
  
Mace folded his arms across his chest. "It need not have come to this."  
  
"No, it need not," Yoda agreed.  
  
"But it has."  
  
Yoda nodded, but said nothing. Mace released a deep heavy breath. He walked over and stood in front of Yoda.  
  
"You let him keep his lightsaber, even though it is forbidden for a Jedi to do so once expelled from the Order." Mace's dark eyes narrowed. "Will he return to us? Have you seen it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Yes? That's all. Not when, not why. Just yes."  
  
Yoda nodded, then averted his gaze from Windu and looked down at the floor.  
  
Mace knelt in front of Yoda, his face centimeters from the ancient Jedi's.  
  
"I did as you asked," he suddenly cried, his voice raw with emotion. "I voted for his expulsion. Now he's gone."  
  
Mace glared at Yoda as he remained silent, then stood. "You're wrong, you know. He's not coming back. Why should he? He believes we betrayed him, that the Force betrayed him."  
  
Yoda raised his head and looked up at the taller Jedi, his leaf-green eyes boring into Mace's darker ones, but he remained silent.  
  
Mace returned Yoda's stare, then shook his head. "I hope you know what you're doing. I truly do. The dark times are coming. We will need him."  
  
Yoda pointed a gnarled finger at Windu. "And be there he will. When darkness covers us all, be there he will."  
  
Mace stared at Yoda a moment longer, his gaze unreadable. Then he turned, his robe sweeping behind him, and left the Council chamber.  
  
Once he was gone, Yoda released the breath he'd been holding. He looked out the window at the night sky, and saw, glimmering in the dark heavens, the stars. Stars in the darkness. Yoda slowly closed his eyes and lost himself within the flowing interstices of the Force.  
  
----------  
  
Obi-Wan gently stroked Onara's hair. They were on their way to Ahjane, the star-yacht speeding through hyperspace. She was still in her _yanol_, but her physical injuries had healed. He glanced over and checked the machines she was hooked up to. The readouts all read normal.  
  
He sat back in the chair next to her bed. The medical bay of the star-yacht was state of the art. He knew there was nothing to worry about, but his sense of disquiet had not eased. There was no more danger, he told himself. Lursan was dead. But, so was Ben and Dalan. Their bodies were down in the ship's hold in stasis. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, the wave of pain that always accompanied thoughts of Ben sweeping through him. A moan escaped his lips.  
  
"Master Kenobi, are ya all right?"  
  
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Auna was standing in the doorway of the medical bay. Her large violet eyes were staring worriedly at him.  
  
"Auna," Obi-Wan said. "Please, come in."  
  
Auna walked into the room, looking over at Onara. She leaned over, examining her carefully, as she did every time she came to see her. "Do ya think she can hear us, Master Kenobi?"  
  
"I don't know. I don't think so."  
  
Auna stared down at Onara a moment longer, then looked over at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Thinking about yar wee one, weren't ya?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his throat tight. Auna walked over to him and put one of her four hands on his shoulder, pressing it gently.  
  
"Ya should let yarself cry, Master Kenobi. It don't do no good to hold it in."  
  
"I'm all right, Auna. Really I am." He reached over and patted her hand. She nodded and stepped away.  
  
"So, ya did it," she said, her head tilted, her pointed ears twitching.  
  
"What? Did what?"  
  
"Remember that time I asked ya if ya would kill to protect yar wee one and yar lady love. Ya did it."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. Auna and Zaka still thought he had killed Lursan. He saw no reason to dispute their conclusions. In their eyes he had done the right thing. It no longer mattered to Obi-Wan what people believed or did not believe, what they thought was right or was wrong about Lursan's death. If Obi-Wan had been more of a man and less of a Jedi, Lursan would surely have died at his hands.  
  
He shook his head. "But too late to protect Ben," he whispered.  
  
Auna suddenly fell to her knees, startling Obi-Wan. She put two of her hands on his legs and gazed up at him. He looked down at her. She was rough and she was tough, but she was also quite beautiful.  
  
"Don't," she said softly. "Don't do this to yarself. Yar wee one is gone. But ya are still alive and yar lady love is still alive. The two of ya together made Ben. The two of ya together can make another child."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. He reached down and cupped Auna's face. "No, Auna. There will be no more children. I will care for Onara until she recovers and then I will leave."  
  
"What if she asks ya to stay?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked over at Onara, her dark hair spilling across the pillows, her eyes closed as she remained locked in her grief unending. "She will not."  
  
Auna stared up at Obi-Wan as he gazed sadly over at Onara. Then she stood. Obi-Wan looked up at her.  
  
"Well, if that be so, what will ya do? Where will ya go?"  
  
"I don't know. Is there much work out in the galaxy for an ex-Jedi?"  
  
Auna shrugged. "Could be. Me and Zaka, we've been freelancing. Doing jobs here and there. Ya could always hook up with us. Yar good in a fight. We could use ya."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, Auna. I'll keep that in mind."  
  
Auna looked down at him for a moment, then over at Onara, her lovely face thoughtful. "Well, I'll be saying good night to ya, Master Kenobi. And thanks for getting me a separate cabin. The ship we took to Coruscant, Zaka snored all the way."  
  
"You're welcome. Sleep well. I'll see you both in the morning."  
  
Auna nodded, then, leaning down quickly kissed him on the cheek. She blushed as she rose, then turned and left the med-bay. Obi-Wan sat for a moment. Then he walked over and picked up his travel case. He had yet to take it to his cabin. Once on board he had come straight to the med-bay to be with Onara. He opened it.  
  
Inside were the few personal things he had elected to bring with him: the river stone Qui-Gon had given him on his thirteenth birthday; holopictures of him and Qui-Gon, of him and Bant, and of him and Anakin; a book Sinja- Bau had given upon his departure called _The Classic of Peace and Balance_; the pendant which contained the holographic image of Onara and Ben; the framed picture Ben had drawn for him, his lightsaber, which Yoda had allowed him to keep, and, last of all, the package Anakin had given him.  
  
He took out the package and placed it on a table next to Onara's bed. He opened it carefully. Yes, it was as Anakin had said. Everything was here. He glanced over at Onara, making sure she was all right. Then, sitting down at the table, he took out the tiny, delicate instruments, the metal plating, the magnetic stabilizing ring, the inert power insulator, the cycling field energizers and all the other parts, and, most importantly, the two tiny crystals, one a primary, the other a focusing one. Everything he would need to construct a small lightsaber. Small enough for a child to hold.  
  
But, there was one last thing. In order to construct the lightsaber he had promised Ben, the one he planned to bury with his son, he would have to call on the Force, because only it could guide him as he made the impossibly fine and crucial alignments of the irregular crystals.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. The Force had betrayed him. It had taken away his son and broken the heart of his love, but only the Force could help him fulfill his promise to Ben. Releasing a deep breath, he opened himself to it, and it rushed into him, like a river that had long been banked. It poured into him, energizing, powerful, strong, and, for a moment, he mourned what he had lost now that he was no longer a Jedi, but when he opened his eyes and looked over at Onara, he let go of his regret.  
  
He focused on his task, his fingers moving surely and skillfully, the Force flowing through him. Soon the lightsaber that began to form between his hands was a small, exact replica of his own. He worked far into the night. Then, finally, as he heard the ship dropping out of hyperspace and making its approach into the Ahjane system, he was done.  
  
Obi-Wan held the tiny lightsaber in his hands, his fingers moving slowly over it. Then he looked up, noting light streaming in from the port window of the med-bay. He placed the lightsaber carefully on the table and walked over to the window. It was the Ahjane sun. The window automatically darkened as it shielded, blocking out harmful UV rays and radiation, but Obi-Wan imagined he could feel the sun's warmth on his face. He gazed out the window, watching as Ahjane came into view, a large blue and green planet. He turned and smiled at Onara.  
  
"You're home, love. You're home."  
  
Onara, of course, remained in her _yanol_, oblivious to him. Obi-Wan turned back to the window, sighing deeply. Then he watched as Ahjane grew larger, the sun's light arcing over its circumference. There was no night or day in space. It was an illusion of a planet's rotation as it orbited about its sun. But to Obi-Wan, as he watched the sun rising over the rim of Ahjane, it felt to him like a new day. The first day of his new life.  
  
The End  
  
That's it, folks, the ending to "Stars in the Darkness". :) First of all, thanks to all of you who went the distance with this fic. I hope you've enjoyed this fic as much as I have writing it. And, yes, I have left a lot up in the air. It's not quite the happy ending, I promised, but there's a lot more story to tell. It looks like this is going to be a trilogy, so the next fic, which I have tentatively titled, "In Love and War" will be up, I hope, soon. Again, thanks so much for reading, for replying and for supporting this fic. It's made my journey writing it a joy. :)  
  
Arwyn Whitesun 


End file.
